1114$ 









=>^ 















^^ 







?^ 



CONGRESS. 



!MiBg 



■Ji' ASIEEiCA, 



























: < c 

: ccc 

" C.cc 

-. ccC 

<£^^ 

c^ c 

K C 

tC > C 

<-■ c 

c c 
C' c. 
^, cl 



-S 9 c 



ir^ c x: 

«:c: 

^ <acc- 



LCCCC 
c cd c^<^^ 

.'^C c<l" cccic ««L ' 
cC <:C cc€C'C ^ '•' 

1. cccetcc:,, '^«^'" 



CkiC 



<: Core 

c cec: 

; 9^c 

t:_ ctc, — 



^ c c 



^. ^ Cc ' 

<vc;. c:. cc e. 



C'.O cc 






csc^c 



^^ 



tccc: 






cs:cc«£r « 

tZ'^C ccdcc 

:icr 

-c CCCCs 

: c cc <r c< ^ 
^ c <s: <cco: 

cV ^Vc<5 



f^^^% 




8fC0. 




'5 ^ ^, 



UP AND DOWN THE lEIIIIIiD. 



A VACATION TRIP. 



BY 
PLINY STEELE BOYD. 




/if^'^0^^'^^'^Hf^<^ 



\ ..>^ 1879. U^/y 



,v^of u^^vy 



BOSTON: 
D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY, 

FKANKLIN ST., COKNEIi OF HAWLEY. 



r'^'7l] 



COPYRIGHT, 

1879, 
By D. LoTHKOP & Co. 






TO 
JOHN G. WHITTIER, 
WHOSE VERSE HAS GIVEN HIM A CLAIM ON THE 
MERRIMAC, FROM THE \YHITE HILLS TO THE 
SEA, THIS ATTEMPT ON THE PART OF ONE OF 
HIS FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS TO GRIND A SMALL 
GRIST AT HIS WxVTER PRIVILEGE IS RESPECT- 
FULLY INSCRIBED. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

Preliminary, 7 

CHAPTER n. 
The Start, .14 

CHAPTER III. 
Rowing with the Tide, . . . . '. .25 

CHAPTER IV. 
A Thunder-Storm 36 

CHAPTER V. 
The Broken Oar, 46 

CHAPTER VI. 
Our First Sunday, 58 

CHAPTER VII. 

Onw^ard and Upward, 69 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Rowing up Stairs, 81 

CHAPTER IX. 
Passaconaway Island, 87 

V. 



yl CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER X. 

Looking Toward Sunrise 98 

CHAPTER XL 
Solitude and Society, . .108 

CHAPTER XIL 
Homeward Bound, 122 

CHAPTER XIIL 
A Pinch of Salt, 132 

CHAPTER XIV. 
The New Earth 140 

CHAPTER XV. 
Our Last Sunday, 153 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Music in the Air, 163 

CPIAPTER XVn. 
Home Again, . 174 



UP THE MERRIMAC 



CHAPTER I. 

PRELIMINARY. 

It was a happy thought that crept into the 
brain of Columbus when he determined to dis- 
cover America. 

Just how the thought was evolved, precisely 
when and where, has not been handed down to 
us. By what combination of material elements 
the thought was produced, remains yet to be 
discovered. 

We do not know what he ate for breakfast that 
morning. And if we knew, we could not afifirm 
with certainty, whether it was the fish, or the 
fowl that laid the e^^, that hatched the thought 



8 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

of America. It may be evidence of the back- 
wardness of our age that we are not able to 
determine exactly how to combine the products 
of the soil so as to originate great thoughts. 
That is one of the discoveries for some future 
Columbus of mental or material philosophers. 
Let us not make haste to rob him of his glory. 
It will be considerate to leave to posterity a few 
of the great inventions yet to be made. When 
it comes our turn to interview the great Edison, 
we shall modestly caution him against loading 
down the present century with too many bril- 
liant inventions. 

But so fruitful of good was that little venture 
of the great explorer, that we have often won- 
dered there were not more Columbuses in the 
world. 

" Lives of great men all remind us" — 

It was not with any idea of making our lives 
sublime, however, that we determined to make a 
voyage of discovery up the Merrimac. 



PRELIMINAR V. g 

But all perilous adventures have a certain fas- 
cination about them. And spite of our high- 
wrought civilization, there is considerable of the 
gypsy left in us yet. And to gratify the gypsy, 
as well as to enjoy the luxury of discovery, and 
the fascination of peril, we took for our vacation 
trip a row and sail up the IMerrimac — myself and 
two boys. It would be a work of supererogation 
to assign all the reasons for choosing the IMerri- 
mac rather than the Atlantic for our explora- 
tions. It will suffice to state that our time, our 
purse, and our ship were all too short for an 
ocean voyage. 

And, moreover, the navigator whose ambi- 
tion can be curbed within the limits of the Mcr- 
rimac, can the more easily go ashore nights. 
And in case of being upset, or spilled overboard, 
he can the more easily touch bottom. But our 
ambition to make discoveries did not run so 
much in a perpendicular direction, as horizon- 
tally. And the horizons of the Atlantic, after 



10 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

reaching mid-ocean, are tame compared witii the 
picturesque shores of our river. So up river we 
determined to go. 

And for fear some wretched historian would 
make a botch of the story, it has seemed good 
for me to tell it myself. 

There is a great advantage in being the his- 
torian of your own adventures ; for then you can 
be sure of telling the truth. All you have to do 
is to follow the facts. But the historian of 
others' adventures has to rely too largely upon 
his imagination ; and the truth often suffers from 
the coloring it gets from the historian's fancy. 
When, however, you color it with your own fancy, 
you know just how much is truth, and how much 
is coloring. Of these records, the writer feels a 
strong assurance that the facts narrated are 
not purely imaginary. They are not facts founded 
on fiction. All the genuine facts were of actual 
occurrence. If any fictitious events are allowed 
to transpire in the narrative, they will be suffi- 



PRELIM IN A RY. 1 1 

ciently indicated, and the reader duly cautioned 
against believing too much. 

If the record seems to carry the semblance of 
a semi-romance, it is due either to the romantic 
character of the adventures, or to the innocent 
play of the writer's fancy while recording them. 
There would be a certain advantage in recording 
the facts and the fancies in separate chapters, 
as a possible aid to future historians ; but it is 
not now so much our purpose to lighten their 
labors, as to obviate them altogether. The 
man who undertakes to write his autobiog- 
raphy should leave no supplementary work for 
the historian. Why should we do our work so 
as to leave the necessity for having it done over 
and over again ? Yet how much of man's time 
is spent in revising and making improvements 
upon the work of his predecessors! 

If this chapter were not so full of more valuable 
material, it would be appropriate here to repeat 
a saying which is often forgotten in practice. 



1 2 UP THE M ERR IMA C. 

but which is just as true as though it were never 
forgotten, that " whatever is worth doing at all 
is worth doing well." And it is confidently be- 
lieved that in the subsequent chapters, the facts 
and the fancies are so well intermingled that no 
future historian will need to meddle with them. 

It is needless to say, perhaps, that the romance 
was not discernible in the prosy preparations, 
the gathering of provisions and furnishings for 
camping out, and the waiting for suitable weather 
after the time for starting, so much as in the 
high hopes and lively anticipations of fair winds 
for sailing and propitious currents for rowing. 

The pleasures of anticipation were never more 
vividly realized. The tasks seen in prospective 
were easy of accomplishment. The horizons to 
be discovered were full of beauty ; those ac- 
tually seen, the terrific thunder storms, the 
roaring rapids, the contrary-minded fish, the 
willing mosquitoes, and queer birds, actually en- 
countered, have a romance of their own, as pleas- 



PRELIM IN A RY. 1 3 

ing as they were fascinating. But in the words 
of the novelist, let us not anticipate^ If the 
reader's curiosity is wrought up as high as the 
writer's hopes and fears were again and again in 
the midst of perils unforeseen but encountered, 
this will suffice for preliminary. The record of 
the trip will open with the next chapter. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE START. 

If any one thinks it was an easy matter for 
Columbus to get started on his voyage of dis- 
covery, after he concluded to find America, let 
him read again the history of that adventurer's 
efforts to obtain the patronage of the authorities 
and the consent of Mrs. Columbus. 

For nearly twenty years he wandered from city 
to city, and from capital to capital in quest of a 
patron. It is no part of our plan to encumber 
these records with the objections which he had 
to encounter at home, and elsewhere. But it 
can hardly be considered any betrayal of confi- 
dence if we simply mention that Mrs. Columbus 
was dead set against it. That is, she worried 
herself to death in less than ten years, for fear 
H 



THE START. 1 5 

of his being drowned, or eaten by cannibals 
beyond the horizon, who might mistake him for 
a missionary. Why she could not cheerfully sacri- 
fice herself and him too on the altar of science, 
the historian forgets to tell us. That would cer- 
tainly have seemed quite as heroic, quite as 
sublime, as to fret herself to death in the vain 
endeavor to prevent the world's progress. 

A certain grand cardinal was not so foolish. 
True, he thought the project savored strongly of 
heterodoxy, yet he approved it. Some of his 
fellow-ecclesiastics remonstrated, piled up Bible 
texts in opposition to the plan, quoted the great 
divines, and marshalled a great array of authori- 
ties to prove that America ought not to be dis- 
covered. But persuaded by another high dignitary 
in the Church, Queen Isabella concluded that it 
ought to be discovered ; and after nearly a score 
of years from the time when he first entertained 
the project, one bright morning at eight o'clock, 
August 3d, Columbus weighed anchor, and 



1 6 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

cheered by the approval of his second wife, and 
the blessing of the reigning queen, set sail for 
the New World. 

In our home the reigning queen is Mrs. Col- 
umbus herself. But she is not in all respects 
like the first Mrs. Columbus. The perils of 
the proposed voyage may have aroused a similar 
feeling of apprehension. The idea of treacherous 
winds and angry billows may have flitted through 
her mind. Perhaps she thought of the sharpness 
of sharks' teeth, of bears' claws, of the playful 
habits of the sturgeon, and the unfriendly dis- 
position of the mosquito, but she was altogether 
too sensible to worry herself to death. And 
though the first announcement of the plan was 
not hailed with unbounded enthusiasm, and some 
objections were mildly canvassed, when with 
evident interest she began to bake pies for the 
trip, we were sure we should not be compelled to 
leave hom.e without her blessing. And that was 
well. Since nothing lends greater zest to an 



THE START. 1 7 

enterprise than the hearty approval of the ruling 
powers. 

The last few days preceding our trip were 
days of busy preparation. Hooks, lines, corks, 
and sinkers, but not enough to sink the ship, 
were carefully packed in boxes. 

Parsons evidently thought that a voyage of 
discovery over any waters would be a total fail- 
ure without an elaborate outfit of fishing tackle. 
Bags, baskets, and bundles accumulated as if by 
magic ; and yet we were to have a very light out^ 
fit, so that we might easily lift our ship over 

difificult places. 

We took a tent and all the desired equipment 
for camping out, and fortunately, as the weather 
turned, all the essentials for camping in. 

Our lantern, oil-stove and rubber blankets 
proved valuable safe-guards against cold, dark- 
ness, and dampness. When the rain poured in 
torrents we were sufficiently reminded that the 
weather as well as the ground was somewhat 



1 8 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

damp. The two days before we started were 
rainy days. If they had not been, we should have 
started two days earHer. After waiting impa- 
tiently during that fraction of a century, we ex- 
pected fair weather. But if the antediluvians in 
the days of Noah thought, after it had rained two 
days, that the resources of the clouds were about 
exhausted, they were soon made aware of their 
mistake. We found that the two rainy days 
were not designed as a prophecy of fair weather. 

But then, were we not to set sail on the moist 
element? Were not our discoveries to be in 
part of water ? To a mariner nothing is of greater 
importance. Heaven was kind to furnish a 
bountiful supply. 

On the morning of August first there appeared 
such evident signs of clearing, that the boys 
found no difficulty in shouting the word ^' go'' 

And the little boys that were not going, con- 
sented to aid in the shouting. If ever boys were 
in earnest, Wendell, and Parsons proved them- 



THE START. jg 

selves thoroughly so by the incredibly short 
time required for dressing, eating, and packing. 
Our dory lay in waiting at Boardman's wharf, 
on the Powow, which appeared at that point 
to take its rise in the Salisbury Woollen Mills, 
whose huge piles of brick and mortar stood 
as silent sentinels on the hill-side ; but whose 
cards and spindles were having a sadly prolonged 
vacation. It was eight o'clock as we pushed 
off, leaving all manner of good wishes for the 
friends left behind, and hoping they would be 
able to endure the sweets and comforts of home, 
while we self-denying mortals set forth to try 
our fortunes and seamanship on the perilous 
waters. 

Here, perhaps, is as good a place as any to 
mention that the reigning Queen had given us 
not only her blessing, but also her consent to ac- 
company us a little way. This was an unlooked- 
for favor, which served to prolong the pleasures 
of parting beyond all expectation. 



20 



UP THE MERRIMA C. 



It has been wittily said that philosophers cross- 
ing the sea of life are more intent upon finding 
where they came from, than where they are going 
to. The oarsman is your true philosopher, and sits 
facing the past, content to back out as quickly as 
he can get out. 

Nothing was more natural, then, than for us to 
take a farewell look at the young city, that sat 
like a queen on the hill-side fast receding from 
sight. Of all the towns in the valley, Amesbury is 
one of the most interesting. Her wheel factories 
and carriage shops, with their curious machinery, 
are a marvel of enterprise and ingenuity. For va- 
ried and attractive scenery the town takes rank 
with — but we would not appear to flatter any of the 
neighboring towns. We were convinced that it 
was as good a place as any to start from, even 
though it was our home. The mouth of the 
Merrimac had been suggested to us as an excel- 
lent starting place. That is where the river it- 
self starts, when it undertakes to go up stream. 



THE START. 21 

We were inclined, however, to attribute that not 
so much to the excellence of the place as to the 
fearfulness of it. The river recoils with terror 
from the thought of being lost in the storm- 
vexed Atlantic, and rushes back to the protec- 
tion of the hills. The alternate explanation is 
that the river'is so charmed by the beauty of the 
lower part of the valley, that it flows back to get 
a second blessing before venturing out to sea. 
To have made that our starting place, would 
have given us a sail by some sweet islands, arid a 
sight of the shabbiest side of our '* sea-blown 
city," near the mouth ; but then, we should have 
had first to get there, and would have missed 
our row down the Powow. That is a river not 
to be slighted. It deserves to be chanted in 
lyric verse by all the muses that haunt the 
neighboring hills. Ours, which is the muse of 
History, may perhaps be excused from attempt- 
ing it in this connection. We think, on the 
whole, the Powow deserves rather better treat- 



22 UP THE MEF^IMAC. 

ment than our muse would be able to give it. 

It is a beautiful river for navigation. There 
are no rapids in it, below the Mills. True, when 
all crooked things are made straight, there will 
be some changes made in its course. But that is 
true also of the Merrimac ; and of some crooked 
people we know, whose course is hardly satis- 
factory. 

Winding about, amid the tall grass and rushes, 
from which flocks of birds, with occasionally a 
bobolink, kept rising to celebrate our coming, 
we made the two miles and a half to the mouth 
just in time to greet the incoming tide. We shot 
quickly under the arch that joins the Ferry Vil- 
lage with Salisbury Point, and found ourselves on 
the broad bosom of the Merrimac at a point 
which commands some^ of the finest scenery in 
the world : 

' Sweet fields arrayed in living green, 
And rivers of delight." 

We could see the towers of Moulton Castle, 



THE START. 23 

which adorns the green hill on the south bank, 
and to which distance lends a rare enchantment; 
and far up river we could see the spire of the 
West Newbury Church, and the politico-astronom- 
ical watch-tower on Pipe-stave hill. We could 
see the reflection of the north bank, with its 
long row of dwellings near the street, with their 
bright flower-gardens, loaded orchards, and 
grand old elms. We could see the bend in the 
river below us, where it sweeps to the south to 
find the right place to run under the chain-bridge, 
that quaint monument of some old-time genius, 
which, were we dabbling in prophecy instead of 
history, we should send down river loaded like a 
scape-goat with the sins of fast drivers. We 
shall considerately defer that matter a little, so 
as not to deprive the Queen of Deer Island of 
the means of crossing to her beloved Newbury- 
port, described in her picturesque and glowing 
periods as hardly less beautiful than the New- 
Jerusalem. 



24 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

We could see the stone towers of Hawkswood, 
standing like a sentinel by the rocky pass in the 
river, above the draw-bridge. To the west of us 
we could see the fine new factory on the Ames- 
bury bank, where they make the neatest and 
cheapest device for collecting poll-taxes ever yet 
brought to our knowledge. We could almost see 
the sun shining upon this bewitching scenery. 
And turning our boat up stream, surrounded by 
all these attractions, we could almost see our 
Paradise. 

The reader will prefer an invitation to visit a 
scene so favored to a full description, be it 
ever so prosy. 



CHAPTER III. 

ROWING WITH THE TIDE. 

It seemed a pity to sail away from so much 
beauty. But remembering that this should be a 
life of self-denial, in heroic mood we flung our 
sheet to the wind, determined to forego the 
pleasure of gazing longer. 

The breeze did not seem to be inclined to 
reward that kind of self-denial. ^olus was 
faint-hearted. Was it out of pity for our sup- 
posed verdancy? Did he mean to suggest that 
it would be safer for us to row ? Perhaps he was 
out of wind, and had not learned our modern 
methods of raising it. We did not wait to con- 
sult the oracles. We did not wish to disappoint 
the tide that had come to our assistance. We 

25 



26 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

courageously took down our sail, and Parsons,»the 
oarsman, braced himself for work. We thought 
it would be as well to help ourselves a little, as 
to rely exclusively upon outside aid — that is, 
those of us who were not rowing thought so. 

While thinking so, Wendell entertained his 
mother with light philosophy and persiflage, 
pausing occasionally to give a little sage advice 
to the oarsman. It is a delightful and compara- 
tively easy task, to counsel another as to how a 
thing should be done. The Captain found vent 
for his genius in strict attention to the rudder. 
Our lady passenger consented, for the time being, 
to allow him the direction of affairs — a rare case 
of self-denial. What privileges Mrs. Columbus 
allowed her lord with 'respect to the rudder, we 
shall probably never know. 

We desire to make grateful mention of the 
inflowing tide. It was more accommodating than 
the breeze, and seemed to have more vitality. 
As gratitude is a more distinguished virtue than 



ROWING WITH THE TIDE. 27 

disgust, it is as well to remember the favors we 
enjoyed, as to spend the rest of our days grum- 
bling because they were not greater. And the 
tide bore us up grandly, and with a little help 
from the oars, rapidly, out of sight of home, up 
by that sweet little town named after the river, up 
to Rock's Bridge. There we exchanged our pass- 
enger, our better fourth, for certain articles of bag- 
gage conveyed in a carriage by friends, who had 
followed us on the shore to give a send-off so 
gracious and charming as to linger in memory 
with the brightest things of the morning. We took 
a parting look at Mary Ann, the versatile and 
nimble pacer, that can travel four different gaits 
in as many minutes, at either five or ten miles an 
hour, though, to her credit be it said, she prefers 
the five; and waving adieu to the ladies, with 
spirits buoyant as the Summer air, we again 
pushed out into the strong current. Wendell 
soon became impatient to row. Paddling in the 
water has a strange fascination for certain temper- 



28 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

aments. And rowing with the tide seems easy 
when another has the oars. When affairs go 
prosperously, the temptation is very strong to 
put in an additional oar. His wish was accord- 
ingly gratified, when, with two pairs of oars, we 
rowed rapidly and joyously along the green 
shores of West Newbury, by the pines of Grove- 
land, under the iron bridge that binds it to the 
Haverhill shore; and gained the port of Haver- 
hill at two o'clock. 

The view that greeted our eyes while ap- 
proaching the city, like that of Salisbury Point 
while receding from it, was one to fasten itself in 
the memory. 

Haverhill, with its fine public buildings, and 
terraces, reposing on the north bank of the 
river, and Bradford, with its neat, white spire, 
and its seminary, on the south bank, smiling in 
the sun at each other, and linked together by 
long strong bridges, formed a picture beautiful 
enough to inspire a painter, poet, or even three 



ROWING WITH THE TIDE. 2Q 

sailors. It proved so inspiring to us that we found 
no occasion to stop at any of the saloons for 
anything more exhilarating. 

For the statistics of the population and busi- 
ness of Haverhill, and sister cities above, the 
reader is referred to the next gazetteer that may 
be published. A history like this ought not to 
be too heavily burdened with information. It 
would sadly mar its usefulness. While enjoying 
a sail, or following the thread of a narrative, no 
one wishes to clog his faculties by an accumulation 
of statistics. If any one really desires an ex- 
ercise in figures, let him go over the multiplica- 
tion table backwards. 

It is to be borne in mind that history is not 
so much a vehicle of information as of the 
whims and conjectures, the preconceived opin- 
ions and moral reflections of the writer. There 
is another reason for refusing to mar the reader's 
pleasure by reference to gazetteers already pub- 
lished. It would look like an advertisincc 



30 ' UP THE MERRIMAC. 

dodge, and lead to the suspicion that the writer 
was actuated by mercenary motives. The histor- 
ian cannot guard too jealously against this. Then 
again, our gazetteers have such a facile way of 
growing antiquated ! Besides being inaccurate to 
begin with, they grow more and more inaccurate 
wath the fleeting years, — thus affording a sad ex- 
ample of the total depravity of statistics. No, no, 
we could not think of referring the admirers of a 
growing city to any gazetteer already published. 
It is not only easier, but safer, to permit the reader 
to guess at its probable size and importance. Some 
historians, writing solely in the interests of truth, 
volunteer the guess-work themselves. There is so 
much of real pleasure in the work of guessing 
they can harly afford to leave it to the reader. 

Apparently it is easy to forget, and yet it is a 
fact that guess-work is not history. 

We felicitate ourselves upon the next state- 
ment as an example of authentic history. 

At five minutes past two, while rowing under 



ROWING WITH THE TIDE. 31 

Haverhill bridge, we detected such a decided 
whiff of air, that we immediately put up sail and 
rested in our seats. Thfe tide bore us on. The 
breeze seemed at first only half-hearted in its 
helpfulness. Apparently, it had not quite made 
up its mind which way to blow. There were 
boats waiting to go down river ; and the breeze 
seemed half-inclined to help them at our expense. 
While awaiting the ultimate decision, and float- 
ing lazily with the tide, we glanced occasionally 
at the seminary on the hill, and wondered when 
the guardians of our higher institutions of learn- 
ing would become sufficiently considerate to open 
their doors to both sexes on equal terms. 

Since it is thought wise for our daughters to 
learn their a-b-c, it is certain that they will be 
educated ; and if they cannot go to Harvard, or 
Yale, or Amherst, they must go to Bradford, 
Wellesley, South Hadley, or Vassar College. 

But the ac^e of monasteries and nunneries is 
passing away. Oberlin and Ann Arbor have 



32 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

been rejoicing in the dawn of a better age ; and 
our young University at the Hub hails with 
open doors the new era. There is no sufficient 
reason, founded either in philosophy or experi- 
ence, why brother and sister, who have eaten at 
the same table in childhood, and received correc- 
tion at the same mother's knee ; who have recited 
in the same classes in our Grammar and High 
schools, should be parted when they come to study 
that logic which forbids their separation. They 
may not wish all through the course to pursue 
exactly the same studies ; but they may well be 
permitted to find in the same college the disci- 
pline and culture considered most desirable. But 
we need not fret while the age is reaching this 
conclusion. The night does not give way to the 
day suddenly. And fretting often serves to 
lengthen the night. 

" This fine old world of ours is but a child, 
Yet in the go-cart. Patience ; give it time 
To learn its limbs ; there is a hand that guides." 



ROWING WITH THE TIDE. 33 

As the boys were not quite ready for college 
they did not apply for admission. It is hardly 
worth while to grumble at a closed door unless 
you wish to pass in. So with all cheerfulness 
we contemplated the closed door, and sailed on. 
And we did sail. The breeze taking example 
from the helpful tide, bore us gloriously on. 
And so much in earnest did it become, that after 
the tide turned it swept us on even against a 
strong current, and the noisy rapids. As bliss- 
ful in our ignorance of the river before us as it is 
often permitted mortals to be, the pleasure of 
surprise was added to our experience, when the 
roar of waters before us greeted our ears, and 
the vision of several coal barges, fast on the 
the rocks, gave us the hint that navigation is 
sometimes difficult. 

The breeze died away. The tide had turned. 
The strong current tugged at our craft, not at all 
uncertain of its power. But then, what are diffi- 
culties for but to quicken man's wits and whet 



34 



UP THE MERRIMAC. 



his perseverance ? The captain, that was myself, 
suggested that towing might be easier than row- 
ing; ; and soon the line was made fast to the side 
of the boat, and the boys taking the other end 
trod the shore. By steady pulling on their 
part, by deft use of the captain's oar, occasionally 
pushing off from the rocks, we ascended the rapids 
known as Mitchell's Falls ; and in half an hour 
we left them roaring and raging behind us. 
Flushed with the joy of victory, and with several 
hurrahs, we pitched our tent for the night on 
a handsome bluff at our left, up above the 
island, in a green pasture, near some oaks, birches, 
and walnuts, and by the side of very quiet 
waters. We had rowed and sailed about twenty 
miles, and were ready for supper and bed as 
soon as we could get the one, and make the other. 
The boys unpacked the boat with alacrity, and 
made their appearance at the evening meal with 
commendable promptness. We cut some birch 
boughs on which to spread the blankets, and com- 



ROWING WITH THE TIDE. 35 

posed ourselves to dream of the dear ones that 
were dreaming of us. 

Slept capitally, with an occasional waking, to 
hear the sighing of the winds in the walnuts, 
and to hear Wendell and Parsons express their 
wonder at the hardness and size of the birch 
boughs beneath. But the night brought us sweet 
rest, a fitting preparation for an eventful day. 
But before entering upon that, the reader would 
perhaps also like a little rest. And it may as 
well be understood that the reader is at liberty 
to pause for refreshment at any time whenever 
the historian or himself becomes too dry. 



CHAPTER IV. 

A THUNDER-STORM. 

The sun rose the next morning with sufficient 
promptness. It did not seem essential for us to 
rise in time to greet him. Theoretically, the idea 
of being up with the early birds is a good one. 
There is a certain element of poetr}' in it ver\' 
charming. And really it is a delightful thing to 
dream about. Nature's sw^et restorer was 
lingering near our pillow. Yet we can hardly 
think it was on account of any attractiveness in 
the pillow. A bundle of rope is not soft as 
downy pillows are. The thundering of the 
trains within a half-mile of our encampment was 
not encouraging to sleep; and soon the thunder- 
ing of the clouds gave the voice of Old Prob. 
respecting the next fortnight. We took it 

36 



A TliUNDER-SrORM. 37 

as a signal for rising. When it began to rain we 
concluded not to build a camp-fire. Consider- 
ing that we had no suitable wood, it was a wise 
conclusion. Were we not fortunate in having a 
camp-stove? The shower was soon over, and it 
threatened so decidedly to clear off, that we 
quickly loaded our ship and rowed leisurely for 
Lawrence. We passed another coal barge secure 
upon the rocks, waiting either a rise in the river 
or a rise in coal. We soon passed the steeples 
of North Andover on our left, and rested for a 
little in a birch grove just opposite the mouth 
of the Shawshine, and a little below the outlet of 
the Lawrence canal. During the interval of rest 
we discussed the project of rowing up the Shaw- 
shine, and climbing Andover Hill to see if there 
was a s-Park of genuine orthodoxy left to illumine 
that old theological watch-tower which has such 
a wonderful faculty of renewing her youth. 
Cherishing a grateful remembrance of the cheer- 
ful and wholesome instruction given there, we 



^111 i_ - r: -r . : ^- , -;ie~ ~ r T ever be the 

feET i:: irr-li be is m-eZ r:» Isive the wlrle ni^i- 

5€l res rr rcgr'T^e fi. L- the theotogkal irorlsd a 

Ettile c3t:L5i^!r.c^ 5s better. pe!:h^pts^ r?::.i^ a §cod 
fsesl ot fSactatXHL We ire saved l«r fsith. sot 

We -sie^ ^thin st>:t:si oe the work-she^ of a 
cry t2£*t ctdtihts shoct :ls zt^^th irsiiistry to the 
sqt:2re =£le aS z=.j in Xe^ Engixrid- btit whidi 

n-es^- At T - r lifief o^zzr dz^r up the H^~V. 

«. arrr rf _ _ . _ . j. rod^w sisd e^nbtLrked os the 
eT^.r" t^ r.::^ the g3.:trtlet of a score oC brieves. 
^yzT r55e :r3 to tfee wpoer Icck iras like 2 tri- 
—■--r^ the:^ed by i&oiMireds if not thoas- 
£ijf3 -tc the sttis s:~d fii^^^^rers ol mdastiy, cross- 
n::g t^ bcS5ges^ aad =tc^jKng to va¥€ their caps 



A THUiyDER'STORM. 39 

and handkerchiefs to the " sailors," and speak a 
word perchance of applause or friendly banter. 

Before the hour of their rest was over we had 
rowed up the long canal and been locked through 
into the river above the dam — a magnificent 
structure, affording a little Niagara of twenty feet. 

While taking our dinner in the edge of a pine 
forest just above the city, we were startled by 
the appearance of the first bear which we had 
thus far encountered. It was a huge black one, 
that had climbed a dead tree, and was making 
threatening gestures. Another look revealed the 
fact that there were two of them ; and we had 
not caught in the cit>- the trick of seeing double, 
either. The second was standing erect, and 
showing his glittering teeth. We had net 
expected to find bears so early in our trip, 
nor so near the borders of civilization. And 
the pleasure of surprise was even greater than 
our fear of danger. They were not quite near 
enough to be effective as quickeners of the con- 



40 



UP THE MERRIMA C. 



science. But there they were ; and neither 
showed any inclination to run. Our weapons 
were in the boat, and the gun was unloaded. 
Not having the experience of the ancient shep- 
herd lad, that slew a lion and a bear, as the 
record runs, Wendell was loath to grapple with 
them empty-handed. He was apparently not 
hungry for bear's meat. Possibly they were 
hungrier than he. Parsons was already out of 
sight, behind a tree. He had started in search 
of a grazing farm, to inquire for milk. And it "is 
quite doubtful whether Wendell could have 
handled the bears alone. Besides, he was having 
about all he could do to save himself and dinner 
from a crow that had determined to have a meal 
at his expense. He concluded in the circum- 
stances not to go for the bears. The captain 
was too busy to interfere; naturally of a peace- 
able disposition, he thought it unbecoming in a 
naval commander to engage in war upon land. 
Then again, the bears had felt restrained from 



A THUNDER-STORM. ^I 

making any attack. And the idea of an offen- 
sive war is not in harmony with the traditions 
of a Christian people. 

We saw also in the wood a fox and some wild 
geese, but concluded not to load our gun. That 
was not our hunting ground. "Discretion is the 
better part of valor ;" it was then. We had not 
planned to engage in the hunt so early in our 
voyage, and were too conservative to think of 
changing our plans. 

After dinner a favoring breeze filled the sail, 
and bore us easily on from four to five miles in a 
southwesterly course, when threatened with a 
thunder-shower, we landed in a pine forest in 
Tew^ksbury — a splendid camping ground. Be- 
fore we could pitch our tent, or get the baggage 
ashore, a tempest of thunder and lightning swept 
down upon us. We covered some articles with 
rubber blankets, and took others with us 
to the shelter of the dense pines, and from a 
good look-out watched the progress of the 



^2 UP THE MEN RIM AC. 

storm. The war of the elements was both sub- 
lime and terrific — terrific to any of a timid tem- 
perament ; but it was grandly inspiring, calling 
forth our faith in Him who wields the artillery of 
heaven. A dark and ominous cloud, apparently 
moving west from Methuen, sent bolts of lightning 
thick and fast straight to the earth; it was met 
by another that seemed to move in the opposite 
direction, or down from Dracut. The contest was 
furious ; sharp, crackling thunder spoke the anger 
of the elements,and the lightning seemed incessant. 
Meanwhile the rain poured in torrents ; and 
distant thunder rolling and roaring, gave evidence 
of the storm raging to the south and west of 
us. For a time it seemed uncertain which of 
the contending clouds would gain the victory, 
or which way the storm would pass. Then it 
appeared to be moving eastward, and to rage 
most furiously over Lawrence. Again it ap- 
peared to return, move upward, and spend its 
fury in the vicinity of Lowell. 



A THUNDER-STORM. 43 

It piobably had a far wider range. We at- 
tempt only a description of what appeared to us. 

At length light broke in in the direction of 
the northeast, and the rain poured less furiously. 
At six o'clock the sun was shining, and the storm 
was over. He was right welcome — and we gave 
him cordial greeting. 

How fared it with the sailors in the wood, do 
you ask ? 

Two of us with the basket of provisions had 
the shelter of the umbrella; and Parsons, with 
the ingenuity of an Edison, made a shelter-tent 
for himself with an old waterproof cloak, his 
mother's last blessing, by fastening three corners 
of it to three pines that stood near together and 
holding up the middle of it with an oar. 

His tent was in appearance more ludicrous 
than graceful; but it was useful. And in the 
matter of shelter-tents utility should have pre- 
cedence over beauty — especially during the rainy 
season. 



44 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

His kept him dry. None of us were wet. And 
the facts of history will warrant the further state- 
ment that during the series of thunder-storms 
that followed that Friday none of us received a 
wetting before the return home. 

When the sun came out we chose a place for 
encampment, looking about a little to see if any 
of us were struck with lightning. So nimble 
and numerous had been the electric fairies, that 
we could hardly believe our grove unvisited. 
No trace of harm appeared. We took our ship 
through an inlet round to a delightful harbor, 
quite hidden from the river. A grassy knoll, a 
little removed from the trees, but well concealed, 
offered hospitality to our tent. 

We kindled our camp-fire, not without diffi- 
culty. The shower had not inspired the wood 
with any enthusiasm. But the pines stood ready 
to sacrifice their pitch on our altar. So pitch and 
perseverance gained the victory. A substantial 
supper of oat-meal mush and milk satisfied our 



A THUNDER-STORM. 45 

hunger. Two sons of Nimrod, who had protec- 
ted themselves by fastening up their sail to two 
trees, offered to show the way to a Summer apple 
tree in an adjoining orchard. As the tree be- 
longed neither to them nor us, we declined the 
offer, and had no reason to regret the decision, 
after learning that the apples were hard. Virtue 
is its own reward, when it saves one from the 
colic. 

An abundance of pine leaves afforded material 
for comfortable beds. Rubber blankets kept 
out the dampness, or rather kept it in; and the 
the rheumatism that was lurking beneath was 
disappointed of its prey. Soon after eight, w^e 
disposed ourselves for the night, and lulled to 
sleep by the murmuring pines, we rested as 
sweetly and peacefully under the care of Heav- 
en's angels, as though earth had never known a 
storm. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE BROKEN OAR. 

The hill at the east of our camp, and the 
dense pines prevented the day from breaking too 
early upon our slumbers. So after a long sleep 
we awoke refreshed, ready for fresh adventures. 

O the wonder of sleep, that sweet oblivion 
that makes man young, and the world beautiful 
once more! With what eager hope one hails a 
new day, when the beautiful Morn holds out her 
hands of promise and of blessing ! Old as time, 
the world rests upon the shoulders of hoary 
Atlas, and yet smiles with the grace of immortal 
youth, when she turns her brow to the sun for 
her morning kiss. 

A slight fog on the river gave token of a fair 
day. We boiled our pudding over the camp- 

46 



THE BROKEN OAR. 47 

fire, and with milk, sandwiches, and turnovers, 
made the morning meal. 

While Parsons was gone for the milk, Wendell 
took his first lessons in loading and shooting the 
gun. 

There was no difficulty in loading. The trial 
of fortitude and patience came in with the shoot- 
ing. It proved a trial of perseverance also. 
Wendell, pointing the terrible weapon at an in- 
nocent tree, pulled the trigger. Snap!— but no 
bang! Well, it was not the first time a youth 
had been disappointed in a gun. Sometimes the 
disappointment precedes, and sometimes it fol- 
lows the discharge. 

"Perhaps the fault is in the cap ; try another," 
suggested the captain. 

" I did," responded the marksman. 

"No go?" 

" No." 

" Try again, better luck next time !" 

" Bang !" spoke the gun ; and without any 



48 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

thought of advising the boy to turn idiot in the 
style of combing his hair ; though it made every 
hair stand on end. 

" There is some go in the gun, after all ; or else 
in the powder. What have you hit ?" 

" OhI hit pretty much all round." 

" Kick any ?" 

*' Only a little. She hasn't learned how." 

*' Load her up once more. You can teach her 
by putting in a little more powder." 

" I'm not playing schoolmaster now." 

** Nor the coward, I hope ?" 

"The what?" 

"There! d'ye see that rabbit? Load up quick ; 
he'll be gone." 

Wendell loads again, and creeps along by the 
underbrush, under the brow of the hill, till he 
imagines he has found the right place. 

" Snap," again said the gun quickly, as though 
she didn't care a snap for the rabbit. 

" Once more I" shouted the captain. 



THE BROKEN OAR. 49 

*' Snap, bang !" before the words were fairly out 
of his mouth. 

We didn't have fried rabbit for breakfast ; but 
we had number one appetites. And appetites 
without rabbits are even better than rabbits 
without appetites, particularly when you have 
some other choice delicacy. We liad a good 
breakfast. And as the rabbits had also the op- 
portunity of enjoying their breakfast, perhaps 
the amount of happiness was quite as great as 
though they had furnished the meal. The ham- 
sandwiches removed all sense of disappointment 
from the stomach of the marksman. The pud- 
ding disappeared somehow, not very m}'ste- 
riously ; and the turnover pics proved a fine des- 
sert. Wendell forgave the old musket her little 
eccentricities ; and with all cheerfulness washed 
the dishes and loaded the boat, while with equal 
cheerfulness Parsons made the attempt to hook 
a few fish from our trout brook. He found them. 
He admired their appearance and size, but not 



50 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

their behavior. He was compelled, however, to 
admire their sagacity. All fish are not sagacious. 
Like many a silly youth who bites at a bare 
hook, they sometimes give indication of a sad 
lack of discretion. But these were not indiscreet. 
They were wise enough and patient enough 
to wait for a more expert fisherman. Their ad- 
mirer has been more successful since, more than 
once, in obtaining fish at the markets. 

At half-past eight we took in anchor and 
rowed leisurely for Lowell. The fog was lifted 
from the river, leaving a surface smooth as a pol- 
ished mirror. We could see not only the beau- 
tiful shores, but their reflection in the water, 
sweet banks, delightful groves, and precipitous 
bluffs, as beautiful below as above, showing that 
nature has a double charm for her lovers. A few 
miles brought us to stronger currents, where the 
water rippled and gurgled with its swifter mo- 
tion. 

Our oarsmen were put upon their muscle. 



THE BR OK EN OA R. 5 1 

Stronger still the current grew ; and we could 
hear the roaring of the rapids above. A dense 
smoke was ascending from behind the high 
banks on the north. This and the fine 
residences on the bluff below Lowell indi- 
cated that we had almost reached the city. But 
the river showed no signs of becoming pro- 
pitious : with a more angry roar it greeted 
our coming. 

It became a practical study for us, how we 
were to ascend the rapids. The boys had rowed 
manfully up to their very feet, when the white- 
caps, and the boiling, tumbling flood seemed to 
say, '-Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther." 
There appeared no chance for a carry. But we 
found our opportunity for further progress be- 
hind a little island on the north side. Rowing 
up to the upper end, we found the water shoal ; 
and Wendell prepared to ford it a little way. 

Rolling up their pants, the boys took the boat 
beween them, and guided her among the rocks 



52 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

up past the first difficult point. Then with the 
tow-line they endeavored to pull her by the next 
difficult place, where the current was too swift 
and deep for fording. Walking along the 
rocky edge, they tugged away bravely, while with 
oar in hand we sought to keep her off the rocks 
and headed in the right direction. It was hard to 
prevent capsizing. In the place of greatest 
peril, snap went the tow-line, and we were seem- 
ingly at the mercy of the angry flood. Tossed 
on the breakers like a chip, our baik was the 
play of the exulting victor. Swiftly the wild 
current was bearing us down, and the distance 
between us and the Atlantic Ocean was growing 
rapidly less. But a few vigorous strokes of the 
oar, a little extra pull, brought us to shore, and 
we were ready to try again. Working up once 
more to the same difficult p(»int, we tried next 
time with the anchor-line, together with our tow- 
line, to pull her through, this time successfully. 
So we worked our way up to a point where by 



THE BR OK EN OAR. 53 

reason of precipitous rocks, towing was impossi- 
ble. The current was too swift for fording. In 
attempting it, Parsons slipped, sat down in the 
water, and escaped drowning by clinging to the 
edge of the boat. He did not wait to dry his 
pantaloons at that time. By dint of continuous 
effort w^e gained another point ; but only to find 
more terrible rapids before us, and a more diffi- 
cult shore. To cross the river seemed our only 
resource. It was to all appearance a perilous un- 
dertaking. Could we keep our boat headed up 
stream, and pull wMth sufficient steadiness to 
avoid upsetting, or drifting into the w^iirling ed- 
dies below us? We could try; and w^e did it. 
In spite of the pull which the current gave us, 
w^c gained the south shore. Here was opportun- 
ity to repeat the toil that had brought us up so 
far. There w^as still no chance for a carry ; and 
we had to make our w^ay slowly round the rocks. 
In rowing around one where there was no chance 
for towang, snap went an oar, one of our best 



CA UP THE MERRIMAC. 

pair, and we should have come to grief, had not 
Parsons, quick as a flash, grasped another, and 
pulled us manfully through. As it was, grief 
came to us, for no such oar as the broken one 
could be obtained in Lowell. And we could not 
wait to have one made. A young Hibernian, 
coming to our assistance for his own amusement, 
thought he could get more fun out of it by 
''bossing the job;" and so began to give orders. 
The enjoyment of the original captain was so great 
in his ofiiciousness that he turned the whole matter 
of command over to the stranger and appointed 
himself first mate. To work our way up to the 
upper rapids was a comparatively easy matter. 
There, at the foot of Stackpole Street, we trans- 
ferred our vessel from the river to a furniture 
wagon, having for assistants two of the sons, or 
great-grandsons of Ethiopia, who preferred to 
help us up the bank, rather than continue their 
own work. As that was beating carpets, we (}^\(\ 
not feel like blaming them too severely. We did 



THE BROKEN OAR. 55 

not blame them half so much as we do the man 
who invented an institution that requires beat- 
ing so often. 

In an hour we had crossed the city to the river 
above the dam. Not wishing to waste our time 
by any idle curiosity while passing through the 
city, we meditated upon the lessons our experi- 
ence had taught us; first, to adjust your efforts 
to the strength of the material with which you 
have to deal; don't exert yourself foolishly; sec- 
ondly, not to risk too much upon one oar or a 
single line. 

The old woman had learned the same lesson 
when she said she would not trust all her eggs 
in one basket. 

We had received also a fresh illustration of the 
fact that though nature is sometimes indulgent 
toward her children, she does not alwaj^s favor 
them with cheap success. Sometimes she gives 
them a kiss, and sometimes a cuff ; and often 
she leaves them to learn that the joy of victory 



56 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

is gained only by strenuous battle. But we had 
the victory ; and our boat was above the Falls. 

Having replenished our stores at Lowell, we 
rowed on, without stopping to visit the habita- 
tions of man or take note of the mills. 

Had we not come from a mills village? — and 
was it not the river we had started to explore? 
What was Lowell to us, more than London, or 
New York, or Boston ? We had visited the city 
before, and knew of its sweet and generous hos- 
pitality, and wonderful enterprises. Gratefully 
remembering the one, and greatly admiring the 
other, we waved adieu without a pang, and pulled 
for other shores. Up, past the village of North 
Chelmsford, past the Wickesauke Island, and 
great rafts of logs, turning with the river to the 
west, where it broadens to a bay, we rowed and 
sailed by turns, full of delight with the ever 
varying scene, into the sweet twilight, where we 
pitched our tent for the night some five or six 
miles above Lowell, in the most restful little 



THE BR OKEN OAR. 57 

nook that ever weary pilgrims were fortunate 
enough to find after dark. Under a buttonwood 
tree, near a large white birch, on the north bank, 
we slept all the more profoundly for our strenu- 
ous toiling. Neither the rippling river nor the 
winds of heaven disturbed our slumbers. 



CHAPTER VI. 

OUR FIRST SUNDAY. 

It was the first Sunday in August. We were 
in camp on the east side of the river, a Httle 
above Lowell. We had found the place after 
dark, and could not tell the name of the town. 
But it does not make so much difference in what 
town you spend the Sabbath, as in what manner. 
The spot was one of the most attractive and be- 
witching out of doors; and the morning was so 
radiant that we did not care for a place within 
doors. The commandment does not specify 
whether you shall keep the Sabbath day holy 
under a roof of slate, pine shingles, cloth, or blue 
sky. It allows great liberty. But its spirit would 
secure a rest-day for toil-worn humanity. Rest 
does not mean rcvclr)\ 

58 



UR FIR ST S UNDA V. 59 

We had explored Wickesauke Island for a place 
to camp over the Sabbath, but found that since the 
red man had omitted to hold his powows there, 
the white Indians from Lowell had consecrated 
the Island to a worse carousal. Sabbath dese- 
cration and drinking were not the only faults of 
its unciviHzed visitors. We not only did not 
wish to intrude upon such company, but we pre- 
ferred for ourselves a place of rest to one of 
revelry; and notwithstanding the offer of the 
enterprising proprietor, to let us set up our tent 
over Sunday, for the modest sum of one dollar, 
we chose to continue our explorations and pull 
for another shore. Nature could hardly have 
rewarded us with a more delightful retreat than 
the grassy bluff where our tent was pitched. We 
did not know how beautiful it was till the Sab- 
bath sun revealed it. It was in the upper ex- 
tremity of an orchard that had been mown, where 
fine elms, oaks, and small birches afforded shade 
and a secluded retreat, and where the green ter- 



6o UP THE MERRIMAC. 

races of still higher banks shut off all view from 
the street. Next us was a wooded ravine through- 
which a trout brook gurgled, and where huckle- 
berries grew, and were sweetly ripening that 
Sunday. It was indeed a resting-place. But rest 
does not imply utter cessation from all activity. 

The most delightful Sunday rest may call into 
active exercise the higher faculties of our nature. 
It is not inconsistent with regular church attend- 
ance. And it is a question whether there is any 
better way for a well man to spend a part of 
Sunday, if the walk is not over five miles, than 
to attend some place of worship. To join in the 
service with other devout souls, is helpful to " the 
divinity within." 

Inquiring for a church at the nearest farm- 
house, where we had gone for milk, we were di- 
rected to the one they called Orthodox, as the 
others were having a vacation. 

We found a congregation of about seventy-five, 
in a pretty little meeting-house, almost new, and 



O UR FIRST S UN DA V. 6 1 

a young minister with a pleasant face and voice, 
quite in keeping with the pleasant morning. The 
opening service was admirably adapted to cheer 
and refresh the weary, and awaken emotions of 
reverence, and gratitude. The sermon was a 
plain one, easy of comprehension, on the duty of 
self-denial. It was suggestive, rather than ex- 
haustive, and yet it was long enough to exhaust 
the interest of the congregation. Ten minutes' 
abbreviation would have rendered it doubly 
effective. 

The flourish of announcements in the intro- 
duction was a little out of proportion to its con- 
tents. It is perhaps as well to say what one has 
to say without wasting the time in prophesying 
what is going to be said. The old style of ser- 
monizing used to be to foretell in the introduc- 
tion what the speaker intended to say in the 
body of the discourse, then say it over again with 
amplifications, and in conclusion tell what had 
been said in the discussion. The plan had its 



62 UP THE M ERR IMA C. 

advantages, for those accustomed to sleep 
through two-thirds of sermon time. But it is 
not the preacher's first duty to encourage sleep. 
In this more busy age, it suffices to say a good 
thing once, if you only say it well. But the dis- 
course that day was not modeled upon either the 
old plan, or any more recent method of sermon- 
izing; it was not open to the objection of being 
too strictly conformed to any plan ; but possessed 
somewhat of the interest which attaches to an 
unpremeditated ramble in the woods. It was a 
problem with preacher and hearer alike as to 
where he would come out. It was a poor enough 
sermon in some particulars, and yet it was 
worth going to hear. It was a great deal better 
worth going to hear than many of the sermons 
preached in some city pulpits. For singular as 
it may seem, some of our city ministers think 
they have as good a right to preach poor sermons 
as any of our country parsons. And it would 
seem to some of their hearers that they had 



OUR FIRST SUXDA V. 6^ 

preached so many of them, that their brethren in 
the country might well be excused from adding 
to the number. 

We cherish grateful recollections of the sermon 
for two things; that it was so free from the cant 
of philosophy, which mars so many modern dis- 
courses ; and that it made no attempt to resur- 
rect the ghosts of dead doctrines which in gen- 
erations gone by have been mistaken as orthodox. 

And we think great allowance should be made 
for a young preacher, who is required to write 
two sermons a week, besides undergoing all the 
wear and tear of pastoral labors. The wonder is 
that a man can find anything to say after the 
first few weeks; or get time to learn anything 
new. 

It mattered little to us, that the preacher had 
not learned what to do with his hands, nor how 
to construct his discourses, nor what to put into 
them ; our solicitude was aroused most of all for 
the congregation that had not learned to prac- 



64 UP THE MERRIMA C. 

tise the self-denial taught in the sermon,, and 
forego the pleasure of listening to so many weak 
discourses, that would have been stronger if re- 
duced in number and dimensions. 

Congregations as well as ministers have much 
to learn with regard to the best way of adminis- 
tering the trusts committed to them. 

It is a great satisfaction to most of us that 
our neighbors generally have yet much to learn. 
And how fortunate that we are generally so 
competent to give them wise counsel! 

It is a practical question for all our churches, 
how to hold our men and boys. 

A noticeable feature of the congregation, was 
the scarcity of men, and almost entire absence 
of boys. 

While on our way to church we could not 
restrain our pity for two disconsolate looking 
youth, who were holding their fishing tackle by the 
bank of the stream, laboring under the delusion 
that New England fish would bite on Sunday. 



O UR FIRST SUN DA V. 65 

We pitied them that they should prefer anghng 
when the prospect was so poor, to attending 
church; but after tne service, our pity was 
divided between them and the congregation that 
could not provide a service more attractive for 
New England youth than any form of Sabbath 
desecration. 

Returning, we rested in our grove, and thought 
upon the presumptuous youth, who was so indis- 
creet as to drop a line on Sunday to fish that 
have no care for such communications even on 
the other days of the week. 

Then occurred that declaration of the Master, 
pronounced on the shores of Galilee — '' I will 
make you fishers of men." And the question 
kept recurring, when he laid the emphasis upon 
men, did he mean that his preachers should secure 
the allegiance only of their mothers and sisters? 
The good Father says — " All souls are mine." 
Are not the boys and young men souls as truly 
as their mothers and sisters ? The plain answer 



^ UP THE MERRIMA C. 

is affirmative. Nor can it be shown that the 
young men think less of their souls, or less of 
serious and manly things, than do their sisters. 
The simple fact is, they require a manly, not an 
effeminate exposition of Christianity. Such a 
proclamation of it will receive their attention. 
When they are convinced that Christianity is the 
science of true manhood, and genuine woman- 
hood, they will accompany their wives and 
sisters to church. The preacher or church 
that would secure the attention and respect of 
the men must give them something to attend 
to. That is their reasonable service. 

The little church on the banks of the Merri- 
mac, where it was our good fortune to attend 
worship is not our target. It is not more open 
to criticism than many of its sister churches. 

But if the churches of the Merrimac Valley 
wish to consult the highest interests of our Re- 
deemer's kingdom, they should endeavor so to 
adminster, proclaim, and illustrate their Chris- 



UR FIRST SUNDA V. 6y 

tianity as to gain the attention, the respect, and 
the allegiance of the most thoughtful minds. 
They are to become '' fishers of men." 

The river flowed on without a murmur, undis- 
turbed by the muttering thunder. And ages 
hence, fed by the rains of heaven, it will con- 
tinue to flow. Other generations will tread these 
shores, and shade themselves under the descend- 
ants of these oaks, and will lift their hearts in 
worship and their voices in praise to Him, who is 
the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever. 

We need not greatly vex ourselves because of 
any imperfections that we note in our neighbors. 
Though this is not to be construed as favoring 
any indulgence of our own imperfections. Yet 
the good Father is wonderfully patient. If He 
bears with our follies, shall not we bear with 
them, until we can correct them? 

Really, there is no better time to begin this 
good work than Sunday. There is no heterodoxy 
in trying to mend our lives on any day. Though 



68 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

the grand Cardinal of Mendoza thought the plan 
of Columbus for discovering America savored 
strongly of heterodoxy, there is none in any sin- 
cere plan for sailing to that undiscovered coun- 
try, whose citizens make no mistakes, since they 
have at command the resources of infinite Wisdom 
and infinite Love. 



CHAPTER VII. 

ONWARD AND UPWARD. 

Refreshed by a Sabbath's rest, not havinc? 
wearied ourselves with too much grumbling nor 
too many services, we were ready Monday morning 
for a new start, and fresh adventures. 

The sky was clear, the breeze favorable; we 
put up sail, and bade good-bye to the birds sing- 
ing in our grove, with hearts as light as theirs. 
We passed the old town of Tyngsboro' at nine 
o'clock, saw the morning train from Boston 
loaded with passengers for the mountains, and 
we could not help pitying them, as they were 
snatched along and whirled away from that de- 
lightful scenery, of which they could get only 
glimpses, while we on our sail could leisurely 
feast to the fill, and delight our eyes with the 

69 



^O UP THE MERRIMAC. 

sweet pictures. Winding our way up the crooked 
stream, we came at every turn to some new 
beauty, yielding a fresh delight and an added 
stimulus. 

Sweet fields of grain or meadow grass, fresh 
pastures where flocks and herds were grazing, 
groves of pine, oak, or birch, musical with birds, 
higher and bolder banks, and forests stretching 
far back from the river, gave variety and at 
times the charm of wildness to the scenery. 

We missed the pleasant farm-houses and large 
barns which had continually reminded us that we 
were in a civilized country. 

Gradually the current grew stronger, and oc- 
casionally gurgled and boiled as though angry 
with the rocks strewn so thickly in the river bed. 
No wonder the uneasy waters were eager to leave 
a bed so rough ! 

But the breeze was stronger than the current, 
and bore us onward with an ease and inspiration 
to be remembered gratefully. At a little after 



ON WARD A ND UP IV A RD. y i 

twelve we reached the old wooden bridge that 
crosses the Merrimac from Nashua to Hudson, 
and landed on the west bank, the Nashua side, 
just above the bridge, where we found a cool, 
grassy hollow, sweet enough for a camping- 
ground, shaded by three elms, one ash, one cot- 
ton-wood, and a yellow pine, under which we took 
our noonday meal. It is not recorded that 
Washington ever rallied his troops under either 
of the elms of that little grove ; but their 
shade was just as agreeable as though they had 
enjoyed intimate acquaintance with the General. 
Had he reviewed his army there a dozen times, 
or had the ancestors of Sitting Bull built there 
their camp-fires, the fact would hardly have 
added to the delicate flavor of the apples which 
we had for dessert. They were beautiful Red 
Astrachans, whose rich and sprightly acid reminds 
one of the wit of those sparkling conversational- 
ists that delic^ht to startle more humdrum peo- 
ple with their brilliant paradoxes. If this were 



72 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

a chapter of advice we should commend every 
reader who would like an early apple tree to plant 
a Red Astrachan the very next season in com- 
memoration of the satisfaction we took in those 
lively beauties. 

Nashua, to all appearances, was a little hamlet 
but little removed from the bank of the river ; 
but is really a city of twelve or fourteen tl]ousand, 
situated on the Nashua river, a mile above its 
mouth, and from which it derives an abundance 
of water-power for its many shops. 

It is memorable to us, however, chiefly as the 
home of Louis Heald, a boy of ten, perhaps, and 
bright and good enough to be the hero of a Sun- 
day-school book. 

When we packed our luncheon basket, we left 
a knife on the ground under the elms. And when, 
on our retura trip ten days afterward, we were 
taking dinner on the same spot, it was our pleas- 
ant surprise to see the honest lad coming again 
to greet us, and bringing the knife, apparently 



ON IV A RD A ND UP WARD. 



73 



more glad to return it than we were to recover 
it. We were far more delighted to see the boy 
again than to see the knife ; for we remembered 
his gentlemanly deportment to us as strangers, 
his readiness in answering our inquiries, and help- 
fulness in procuring the apples. The charm of 
the first acquaintance was renewed, and we were 
glad to meet once more a lad whose conduct re- 
flected so much honor upon both his parents and 
the city of Nashua. When his future biographer 
shall give the record of his life, it will not be 
strange if he shall have occasion to speak of his 
honest administration as mayor of the city, or 
Governor of his native state. But let him not 
forget to mention his cheerful and manly de- 
portment in the matter of the stranger's knife. 
Happy the parents, and happy the city, that can 
point to such children and say, ''These are my 
jewels." Taking him for the type of the Merrimac 
Valley boy, who says that the rising generation is 
not going to be honest ? It may be early in the 



74 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

day to nominate the Governor of New Hampshire 
for 1910, but if we were a nominating convention 
it would give us great pleasure to mention the 
name of Louis Heald, of Nashua, a manly boy, 
who will certainly be too modest to think of 
nominating himself. 

It affords us great satisfaction here to mention, 
by way of supplement to the history of the first 
voyage of Columbus, that he discovered no such 
boy in all his long journey. 

Starting after dinner, with a fresh southerly 
breeze, we sailed quickly by the mouth of the 
Nashua, whose industrious waters came tumbling 
into the Merrimac, and by some strange-looking 
river craft, made of barrel hoops and painted 
cloth, and up five or six miles between precipi- 
tous banks, till, long before night, we reached a 
delightful camping-ground somewhere in Merri- 
mac, N. H. We pitched tent and swung the 
hammock in a pine and birch grove, on a 
high bluff that by its many attractions abun- 



ONWARD AND UP WARD. 75 

dantly rewarded some rather difficult climbing. 
Grassy intervals, alternating with small pines, 
clumps of bushes, and open spaces, formed a place 
for encampment fine enough for a park. Farther 
down river we had been surprised to find so 
many beautiful camping-grounds occupied by 
permanent residences. Here, and farther up 
river, we were equally surprised to find so many 
charming nooks and corners unoccupied. At 
nightfall Wendell and Parsons went in swimming, 
and froUicked like old sturgeon in their native 
element. Their joyous shouts awoke the echoes 
on the other shore, and called forth many bois- 
terous responses from others swimming in the 
distance. 

Swinging in our hammock, we fell asleep and 
made it our bed for the night. The boys slept 
in the tent. The only incident of the night was 
a scare, which resulted from the going out of the 
lantern. It appeared that our camping-ground 
was a calf-pasture; and attracted by the light 



^6 UP THE M ERR [MAC. 

within the tent the calves had gathered near, and 
were mentally ruminating upon the character of 
their strange guests. They were reaching a 
somewhat unfavorable conclusion, as Wendell 
tried at various times to drive them away, when 
the lantern suddenly went out. Filled with won- 
der and alarm they started as if shot, and ran 
bellowing as though all the fiends of darkness 
were after them. It did not seem imperative 
that we should follow. We had not mistaken 
them for bears or deer. We were not hungry for 
veal. 

The last we knew of those calves they v/ere 
running for dear life, with no perils to pursue 
them. How like some men of timid ternpera- 
ment, who run the swiftest before imaginary 
dangers! But it is not necessary to be very timid 
in order to make a large-sized mistake. In fact, 
the making of mistakes is a kind of manufacture 
in which persons of all temperaments, and every 
variety of talents, can engage. It does not require 



ONWARD AND UPWARD. 



77 



the intellect of a Bacon, nor the genius of a 
Milton. It is a grievous mistake to make a fool 
of one's self ; but a calf can do that. 

Tuesday morning the boys cooked their break- 
fast of pudding and eggs while the birds sang 
their matins and the steam-whistles gave their 
signals for work. It was our call to breakfast ; and 
surely never breakfast tasted better. A row of 
half a mile brought us not very quickly — for it 
was like rowing up hill — to Coos Falls,where there 
is the wreck of an old canal, built to aid naviga- 
tion. It offered us no assistance. We were 
compelled to row up to the foot of the falls, and 
tow our ship up its steep places without the help 
of the locks. This we did without loss, although 
a stranger cheerfully informed us that a party 
just a little before us had their boat upset, and 
lost their tent and shoes. Mingling our sorrows 
for their loss with rejoicing over our better for- 
tune, we put up sail and before a brisk wind 
sped northward as straight as the crooked river 



^8 UP THE MERRIxMAC. 

would carry us. The music of merry voices 
drew our attention to some noble elms on the 
bank, under which sat a bevy of bright Boston 
girls engaged with books and fancy work. Par- 
sons went ashore to inquire for a farm-house 
where he could fill his pail with water; and they 
insisted on guiding him to the well, and as grace- 
fully and cheerfully as Rebekah of old they gave 
him drink. 

The simplicity of nature and the refinement of 
culture blended so beautifully in their deport- 
ment, we could not but think that those daugh- 
ters of the Graces esteemed it a favor to be per- 
mitted to grant a favor. 

A little further up river, where the Souhegan 
joins the Merrimac, as we looked under the bridge, 
we caught a glimpse of a landscape like a picture 
set in a frame, charming enough to take an 
artist's eye, and engage his pencil. 

We stopped for dinner on Naticook Island, 
near Reed's Ferry, and in the shade of its grand 



ONWARD AND UPWARD ^g 

old elms, from tables put up for some picnic, we 
ate our bread and milk, crackers and cheese, and 
apples for dessert. The island had recently been 
called by the old Indian name, Minnewahwah. 
It was also known as Reed's Island. Having three 
names, the river had kindly consented to cut it 
into three distinct portions; but as the river was 
low, the three were one again. Above the island 
the current was very strong, and it took an hour 
or more to row up half or three-quarters of a 
mile to the foot of another fall. As we made 
our way through the roaring rapids the thunder 
began also to ro ar from ominous-looking clouds, 
which sent us into camp. Sheltered by the 
tent, unmindful of the storm. Parsons took the 
paper and gleaned it for information, and Wen- 
dell a book, soon forgetting that there was any 
outside world, or any such thing as time. O the 
power of the press to drive away ennui, and lead 
its victims or its patrons to the realms of for- 
getfulness ! What would not Horace have given 



8o UP 'J HE M ERR I MAC. 

for a Boston daily to relieve the tedium of his 
journey to Brundusium ! What would not Noah 
have offered for a copy of the '' Wide Awake," 
during that prolonged rainy season, which caused 
such disaster to all the railroads that no trains 
were run for more than three thousand years ! 



CHAPTER VIII. 

ROWING UP-STAIRS. 

Night set in with a succession of thunder 
showers. One after another came roaring down 
the valley, and pouring down its contributions 
to the river. Our slumbers were somewhat dis- 
turbed by this prolonged serenade. And once 
we awoke to find a pool of water just under our 
pillow. A newspaper laid carelessly against the 
canvass had conveyed the drip carefully to the said 
pool. It thus proved its capacity to be a vehicle 
of moist as well as of dry facts. To remove the 
intruding flood was a far less serious matter than 
drowning. It required less time. To remove 
the paper, less yet. Then lighting our stove to 

take the chill from the air, we slept sweetly, with- 

8i 



82 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

out further disturbance, until the birds sang their 
'welcome to the new day. 

It was a very promising morning. It promised 
to be fair. It promised to be hot. It promised 
us a plenty of hard work. Two-thirds of these 
promises were faithfully kept. While the pota- 
toes and oatmeal were cooking, one of the boys 
visited a hospitable farm-house and procured sup- 
plies of milk and bread, and the other bailed the 
boat, and prepared for an early start. After 
breakfast we girded ourselves for action ; and 
found an hour's perilous work in ascending Moore's 
falls, whose muiic had mingled with the roar of 
thunder during the night. We made the passage 
of the falls through the old canal, finding but 
three points of special danger and difficulty. 
By rowing, towing, lifting and carrying, we 
gained the victory, and were ready for further 
endeavor. The falls were full of big boulders 
that were adorned with the wrecks of less fortu- 
nate vessels. The workmen on the railroad from 



ROWING UP-STAIRS. 83 

the opposite bank of the river swung their hats, 
and shouted '' hurrah," as if to celebrate our tri- 
umph. This proved the first of a succession of 
victories, to gain which occupied the day. After 
the first mile of rowing the current became pro- 
vokingly strong, affording us a strong pull for a 
very little gain. The bed of the river began to 
look as though sown with rocks of all sizes and 
shapes. One in particular was large enough to 
reach nearly half-across the river. It would have 
made a solid foundation for a large house. We 
explored it, named it Rock Island, and rowed 
on. But our progress onward was very slow — 
though upward it was very fast. We rowed as 
it were up-stairs, pretty much all day. We would 
climb the falls to find others roaring just ahead. 
The canals that had once been a help to naviga- 
tion were in such dilapidated condition as to be 
attractive chiefly as ruins. Large stones once 
forming symmetrical walls, were tumbled in de- 
lightful confusion, stained with age, and grown 



84 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

over with vines and bushes. They contributed 
not a little to the romance of the scene, but very 
little to the ease of our journey. The old 
locks were but piles of rocks in our way. A 
little willow grove just below the railroad bridge 
at Goff's Falls invited us to lunch that noon. 
Heaven's artillery furnished the musical accom- 
paniment. We were admonished of a coming 
hurricane. A strange darkness filled the northern 
sky. But the covered bridge offered us shelter. 
We hastened to reach it, rowing up through the 
rapids, and landing nearly under the west end. 
To carry our baggage and equipments to the 
pier, and load it with heavy stones ; to take our 
little ship up the rocks and make it secure above 
the falls; then to dispose ourselves safely in the 
bridge, required less time than the storm-god 
took for his preliminary howl. But as soon as we 
were ready, he gave us to understand that his 
menaces were not mere bravado. Down the river 
he came, astride a regular tornado, growling and 



ROWING UP-STAIRS. 35 

roaring, breathing a terrible flame, hurling bolts 
of fierce lightning in all directions, and pouring 
out a deluge of rain, to prevent a general confla- 
gration. 

We were grateful to his majesty for so timing 
the tempest as to give us the opportunity of 
gaining such adequate shelter. No tent could 
have stood before such a sweeping gale. For 
over an hour the rain poured, and the lightning 
played; and yet it struck nothing nearer to us 
than a telegraph pole at the farther end of the 
bridge. 

After the storm had gone to confer its favors 
upon those further down river, we replenished 
our provisions at the grocery a quarter of a mile 
away, and rowed up a half-mile or more to 
Short's Falls, where we made another climb of 
six feet in thirty rods, without serious accident, 
though not without serious effort. Our day's 
work was nearly done. Our ambition was satis- 
fied. Rowing round a curve in the river, we 



g6 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

spied in the distance a wooded island. The set- 
ting sun was taking his last look at her beauty. 
Glad and grateful we pulled for the inviting shore, 
and after brief exploration, chose our place of 
encampment on a high, grassy bluff, easy of as- 
cent, and pitched tent, driving in the stakes 
strongly, thinking to rest for a few days and take 
an inventory of our discoveries. We slept that 
night the sweet sleep that heaven vouchsafes to 
mortals wearied with climbing upward ; on that 
island in mid-river, as solitary as if in mid-ocean, 
its only occupants, we slept as unconsciously as 
the first sinless pair ni tlieir unstained Eden. 



CHAPTER IX. 

PASS AGO NAW AY ISLAND. 

One week from the time we started from home, 
we awoke to behold our New-founa-iand, and 
find it one of the loveliest and yet wildest of all 
the islands of the Merrimac. It was not quite 
so large as the other Newfoundland; if it had 
been, it would have been altogether too large for 
the river. Ours was just the right size, holding 
its place easily, without putting the river to too 
much trouble to get round it. As an island, wild, 
romantic, and beautiful, it filled our ideal for a 
resting-place, and satisfied our thirst for discov- 
ery. Upon further exploration the enchantment 
grew not less but greater. Ours was the only 
dwelling place upon the island, and we had 
abundance of room ; somewhere from six to 

87 



88 UP THE MERE I MAC. 

eight acres. It was nearly a quarter of a mile 
long, and wide enough for a fine building lot. 

Here were groves of pine, some ancient and 
ambitious, almost piercing the sky; some young 
and resinous, filling the air with their delicate 
aroma. There were groves of hemlock fringing 
the most charming hiding places with their 
bewitching foliage. There were groves of elm 
and oak, and of birch and maple. There were 
screens of under brush for the birds and squirrels. 

There were intervals of grass, soft and yield- 
ing, carpeting our yard and adjoining spaces. 
There were beautiful mosses, delicate enough to 
repay careful observation and prolonged study; 
and some dry and elastic, just the material for 
beds and pillows. 

There were clumps of sumach lifting their 
scarlet-crowned peduncles in the air, and by their 
peculiar foliage, reminding one of their tropical 
neighbors. Here and there were clumps of 
flowers, bright-eyed asters, ambitious golden-rod, 



FA SSA CON A IV A Y I SLA ND. % g 

and the most elegant thistles, whose purple 
crowns were in sweet odor, and musical with the 
hum of bees. Other more modest flowers looked 
heavenward in sweet humility. A group of 
white brichcs stood as sentinels by our camp-fire; 
and old trees vied with their younger neighbors 
in the abundance of fuel offered to replenish the 
dying embers. Thus the old and the young en- 
tered into the most generous rivalry as to which 
should do the most good. As was most fitting, 
the older ones won the palm, for they had im- 
proved the years in gathering substance to bestow. 
How grateful we ought to be to Time for the 
opportunity of gathering somewhat with which 
to enrich our successors ! There were man}- ser- 
mons in those old trees that gave of their abun- 
dance to replenish our fire. We became withal 
pretty devoted fire-worshippers, considering it 
was the month of August. When the sun 
smiled on us, we adored the sun. When the 
lightnings flashed, and that was not infrequently, 



90 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

we stood in awe before the lightning. And at 
sunset or before, when there were no thunder- 
showers, we built bon-fires and paid our even- 
ing devotions. When the rain drove us into 
tent, as it grew fond of doing, we lighted our 
kerosene stove and basked in its beneficence. 
We were reminded again and again that we had 
chosen the rainy season for our excursion, and 
that thunder-storms were all the fashion. But 
would we as lief be out of the world as out of 
the fashion ? Would we? 

We were not without consolation, as we 
thought the friends at home were enjoying 
the same free exhibition of heaven's fireworks. 
And they were very splendid. Never was light- 
ning more nimble than that which played all 
around us; nor was any more successful at dodg- 
ing, for it dodged our island completely, though 
many a noble pine offered very flattering induce- 
ments to the electric fairies to come and settle 
with us. It is said that thunder-showers like to 



PASS A CON A IV A V ISLAND. 



91 



follow the course of the river. It is hardly an 
exaggeration to say that on one day, Friday, 
several dozen of them betrayed their liking for 
following its course. For they came one after 
another in a succession so close that it was im- 
possible to tell where one left off and the next 
one began. Often it seemed as though the next 
began before its predecessor was ready to leave 
off. 

But notwithstanding the brilliant weather, 
the island grew more dear to us day by day. No 
amount of rain seemed to dampen in the least the 
high spirits of our crew. And wonderfully re- 
freshing was the content that lingered around our 
encampment. 

Swinging in our hammock, when the weather 
was kind enough to permit it, we thought of our 
good fortune as contrasted with that of Colum- 
bus, when after almost infinite trials, he brought 
his mutinous crew to that little heap of coral 
in the Atlantic, which he named San Salva- 



g2 UP THE M ERR I MAC. 

dor. In all our journeying, amid all perils, 
when the lightning had been most fierce, when 
the waves had rolled the highest, not one of the 
crew had shown any trace of a mutinous spirit, 
or refused to go on with us in the discovery of 
our new world; but ever ready for action, and 
eager to advance, each had shown himself worthy 
to be at least the fourteenth cousin of Columbus 
himself. We had a splendid crew — ourselves 
even being the judges. Then, as to our com- 
parative successes, we had abundant reason to 
felicitate ourselves. At the end of his voyage 
Columbus did not really know what he had found. 
It was only a little island inhabited by barba- 
rians; and the neighboring islands were as full of 
barbarians as that. We must remember that he 
did not discover the whole of America; nor did 
he find anywhere on his way any such enterpris- 
ing and thrifty cities as we had found on the 
banks of the Merrimac. He sailed by no Haver- 
hills, nor Lawrences, nor Lowells, nor Nashuas, 



PA SSA CON A WA V I SLA ND. g-^ 

nor Manchesters; but he was almost convulsed 
with joy at finding a little island full of sav- 
ages, and blown upon by fierce tornadoes — a little 
island whose only claim to distinction from that 
day to this has been that the brave explorer once 
set foot upon it. 

On the other hand we knew what we had dis- 
covered, — beautiful cities shining on the Merrimac 
like pearls on a necklace; fine farms and elegant 
farm-houses, the homes of gentlemen as much 
more learned than Columbus as regards the New 
World, as he was more learned than the horde 
of Spaniards and Portuguese which he left be- 
hind him; and last of all, this island, the Passa- 
conaway, the home of the eagle, whose soaring 
ambition lifts him above the clouds, and, mirabilc 
dictu, just then the resting-place of the Colorado 
beetle, which crawling under our hammock was 
making his way to the East. 

The gentle critic will here please note with 
what a graceful bound the historian's fancy 



94 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

leaps from the ridiculous into the sublime. 

The neighboring shores of our river — did we 
not find them inhabited by civilized souls, men 
and women upon whose hearts was written the 
law of kindness, and whose hands were adminis- 
trators of that law ? Did we not find their homes 
the abode of sweet friendship and generous 
thoughts? Were we not happy in waiting four 
hundred years before starting on our voyage of 
discovery? Who dwelt upon our island then? 
Whose feet pressed the shores of either side of 
the river? 

Was it worth while for a Columbus to sail to 
that sea-blown island, whose inhabitants were all 
barbarians? Or would it have been worth while 
then to have visited this valley of the Merrimac, 
where the forefathers of Passaconaway hunted 
squirrels and deer, fished for sahiion and trout, 
and lounged in the shade, while their squaws 
hoed the corn and made the johnny-cake? And 
as for that matter, would it have been any more 



FA SSA CON A IV A V I SLA ND. 9 5 

profitable for Mr. Passaconaway, senior, to have 
paddled his canoe over the other way and dis- 
covered the towers of Madrid and Lisbon, and 
attended one of their highly-civilized bull-fights? 
Ah! the centuries have made some changes for 
the better since 1495. There is a law of progress, 
whatever the croakers say. The world grow- 
ing worse? Does a peach grow worse when it 
hangs in the sun from August to September? In 
the sunshine of the centuries this bright, round 
world is ripening like a peach. Then shall not 
the centuries to come bring us the sweetness of 
still greater maturity? Wisely did the Laureate 



Not in vain the distance beckons. Forward, forward, let us 

range, 
Let the great world spin forever down the ringing grooves of 

change, 
Through the shadow of the globe we sweep into the younger 

day ; 
Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay." 

Better three score miles on the Merrimac, in 



q5 up the m err I mac. 

the nineteenth century, than three thousand on 
the Atlantic in the fifteenth — better results, 
more significant discoveries! Shall we not fe- 
licitate ourselves on the change? 

Really, the great mistake of the great explor- 
er's life was in being born so many centuries 
ago. Could he have contented himself to wait 
until 1876, and then discovered our centennial 
exposition, how greatly more brilliant a name 
could he have left to posterity! And then, 
could he only have sailed up the Merrimac, and 
weighed anchor at the port of our island, how 
the view would have delighted his soul ! 

When some Edison invents a telegraph to 
transmit messages from the present back to the 
dark ages, we shall send Columbus a hint of the 
great gain he would have made by waiting a 
little. 

Only a short look away from our tent was a 
barn that contained over a hundred tons of hay; 
and the owner and his sons, while fostering the 



PA SSA CON A IV A Y ISLAND. gy 

interests of agriculture, were cultivating Chris- 
tian dispositions and habits. Had they not 
learned the law of kindness? Were they not 
given to hospitality ? True, the gentleman was 
not very full of professions, but he was fuller of 
alms-deeds. Did he not give his minister a load 
of hay? Men do not generally give hay by the 
cart-load to what they consider quack doctors. 
Was he not careful that his children should have 
a regular habit of attending church? Men are 
not usually solicitous that their children should 
be subjected to the treatment of quack doctors. 
He had some faith, which he had proved by his 
works. He would not wish his children to be- 
come the victims of a delusion. Was his faith 
small — smaller than a grain of mustard seed? 
That even may grow to a great tree. Let it have 
as careful nurture as he gives his growing crops, 
and his may yet become a giant's faith. Is 
it not as commendable and profitable to cultivate 
confidence as to cultivate corn or cabbages? 



CHAPTER X. 

LOOKING TOWARD SUNRISE. 

Perhaps you don't believe in early rising? 
Then again, perhaps you do, for other people — 
for those who like it. It is a good thing for 
those who need for its moral uses to see the sun 
creep slowly above the horizon. What better 
object-lesson could they have to prove that the 
day is growing brighter? For it is growing 
brighter. And there seems to be no more appro- 
priate time than Sabbath morning to proclaim 
this Gospel of hope. 

To our mind it was something to remember 
gratefully, that when the Sabbath brooded over 
our sweet island, the delightful and inspiring 
music of the bells of the city of Manchester 

98 



LOOKING TOWARD SUNRISE. gg 

came soothingly to our grove, suggesting 
thoughts of God, of love, of heaven. 

Columbus heard no call to worship from the 
bells of San Salvador, or any neighboring island ; 
nor would he have heard them then from the 
groves of Passaconaway. 

It will be remembered that the great explorer 
did not discover the whole of America. It did 
not seem essential to our happiness, or to the 
completion of our plan, for us to discover the 
whole of the Merrimac. We had already found 
a delightful resting-place; and lulled to sweet 
content by the rippling river, the hum of bees, 
and the fragrance of the pines, we could hardly 
make ourselves believe that we should find a 
more enchanting spot anywhere this side the 
"islands of the blessed." 

We rested there, enjoying the rich hours, and 
finding abundance of recreation under either 
cloudy or sunny skies. Our second Sunday found 
us in the glad and grateful possession of such 



100 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

good that without apparent effort our thoughts 
went upward, and busied themselves in a reahn 
of sweetness and light. 

Wendell and Parsons rowed to the Bedford 
side of the river and started on a two-mile walk 
to church. Serving as sentinel, we swung in our 
hammock, rejoicing in the sun, and imagining 
how Parson Goodhope would preach his sermon, 
^'Bc of good cheer,'' to some people we know. It 
is an unpublished discourse, not copyrighted, and 
we violate no confidence in giving a few 
extracts. 

The good book, my friends, is not a text-book 
for the grumbler ; and the chapter is not yet writ- 
ten in which the disposition to snarl is spoken of 
as a Christian virtue. Such disposition, you may 
well believe, is better proof of a bad stomach than 
of a sound head or good heart. 

Dyspepsia doubtless has its mission in the 
world. It is that of an avenger, not of a prophet. 
Dyspepsia is not the first qualification for a 



LOOKING TO WA RD S UN RISE. \ o I 

sound theologian. But if one wishes to set up 
as a croaker, it will go a good way toward the 
complete outfit. 

You have heard with no little amusement, the 
pitiful whine of those dolorous souls, to whose 
jaundiced eyes and bilious imagination the race 
seems rapidly running to ruin. You have seen 
men whose golden age was far in the past, and to 
whose apprehension the present is an age of 
lead or pewter. And yet they will act as though 
they thought the age of pewter were perfect ; 
for they uniformly oppose any movement that 
looks to improvement. They are sure to vote 
when the chairman calls for the *' contrary 
minded." 

You have had your laugh before now at the 
owl that was so conservative as to object to the 
new moon out of deference to the old one. And 
you will not be unwilling for the present hour to 
leave these owls to their lamentations, and with 
nv^ join in thought the company of those more 



102 



UP THE MERRIMAC. 



cheerful souls who stand in the dawn of the 
morning looking toward sunrise. You will find 
them good company, thoughtful as well as cheer- 
ful — cheerful because hopeful — hopeful because 
trustful, reliant upon Him whose beneficence is 
unbounded; who when He laid in the provisions 
for the race, by no means put all the choicest 
fruits in the top of the barrel. 

If I supposed the most trustworthy being in 
the universe were like some contractors, that do 
not care to sell to a customer more than once, I 
should gaze upon the setting sun with infinite 
regret, and never think of looking for sunrise. 

If it is not right to indulge in scorn for any 
of the human brotherhood, what is there left 
but pity for those so infirm of faith, as to believe 
only in themselves; or so full of conceit as to be- 
lieve the world will lose track of its orbit as soon 
as they cease to guide it ? What company can 
be worse than that of the bigot who expects 
that wisdom will die with him, who looks upon 



LOOKING TOWARD SUNRISE. 103 

the world as a sucked orange, and who has been 
described in the choicest of classics, and with 
infinite pathos, as '' having no hope, and without 
God in the world?" Believing in the Eternal 
Goodness, I rejoice with the children of Hope, 
that stand amid the hoary shadows of evil, glad 
in the conviction that these shadows are grow- 
ing fainter, and are soon to vanish in the bright- 
ness of the better day. Let my song accord 
with that of the morning lark, joy incarnate, 
soaring above all clouds, and looking toward 
sunrise. ^ * "^ 

Do you ask how you may attain that health 
of body and soul which is so characteristic of 
the sons of Hope? Cultivate cheerfulness. 
Field says, be happy that you may be good. On 
the same principle, be cheerful that you may be 
well. Cheerfulness is to the man what sun- 
shine is to the plant. Laughter is a means of 
grace to the body, as healthful as prayer to the 
soul. Life is flavored by it as fruit by the sun. 



I04 



UP THE MERRIMAC. 



What can supply the place of sunshine to the 
peach? 

What is knowledge worth without the cheer- 
fulness of wisdom? Of what avail is truth unless 
it be spoken in love? A jolly professor, using 
jolly in its best sense, as joyful, is the only fit 
man to teach theology. According to the true 
mythology, the presiding genius of Paradise is 
Joy. In her bright realm cheerfulness is one of 
the first conditions of citizenship. Be of good 
cheer, my friends, be of good cheer. 

Have a purpose. A worthy purpose will 
speedily free the mind and spirit of the mumps 
and measles, dyspepsia and languor. Put your 
generation under some obligations to you — and 
your soul shall be buoyant with health. " The 
way to mend the bad world is to create the right 
one." Strive after higher things. Let not 
to-day shame to-morrow by its evil deed ; but 
let it shame yesterday by its better deed ! Do a 
good thing often enough to make it second 



LOOKING TOWARD SUNRISE. 105 

nature. *' Practice is nine-tenths," says Emerson. 
But don't rqake a machine of yourself. Main- 
tain your liberty. Be generous to rivals ; be 
liberal to opponents; fear not to learn from 
your enemy. Keep your temper in the battle. 
Be good-natured, whatever the provocation. 
The good-natured are the winning and success- 
ful souls. 

Do not be afraid to think. If you have any 
brain use it. It was given for use. Dare, like 
Columbus, to tempt the ocean paths, and sail on 
to a boundless horizon. Do not starve your heart. 
Heart-wealth is better than gold. Look on all 
sides, north, south, east, west. Let him who will 
stick to his text; I shall the rather glance all 
around the horizon, while looking toward sunrise. 

Keeping your heart pure, do not forget the pur- 
pose of your creation. I recall the case of one, a 
favored son of fortune, born as it seemed to be 
a prince among men; genius looked out through 
his eyes ; fame twined her laurels around his brow ; 



I06 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

eloquence owned him for her son ; beauty stood by 
his side. The Keaven that hovered around his in- 
fancy seemed long to bend over him in kindness. 
But, failing to guard with jealous care the 
portals of that inner temple where his manhood 
should have been held sacred, he fell, and the 
morn was draped in mourning. Of all the wrecks 
that have been the play, the scorn of the breakers, 
where is one so sad as the wreck of a stranded 
soul? Keep yourself pure. Soil not your 
spirit wings. Trust the Omnipotent. Cherish a 
worthy ambition. Neither whine nor dawdle. Be 
true to yourself, remembering the soul's possi- 
bilities, and exulting in light immortal, you may 
sing peans to the rising sun. 

The boys returned from church bringing a 
pleasant report ; neighbor Foster favored then^ 
with a ride. They enjoyed the sermon ; and 
spoke highly of the blackberries that grew in the 
graveyard. The berries formed a most cheering 
dessert for the Sunday meal. 



L O OKING TO WARD S UN RISE. 1 07 

It would be quite an additional attraction if 
some other churches would have an abundance 
of blackberries in the adjoining yard. There is 
a period in the life of a boy when such a treat is 
very helpful in making up a favorable estimate 
of the Sabbath services. By all means let us be 
careful to cultivate a plenty of blackberries. 



CHAPTER XL 

SOLITUDE AND SOCIETY. 

"How sweet, how passing sweet is solitude! 
But grant me still a friend in my retreat 
Whpm I may whisper, Solittide is siucet. " 

— COWPER. 

*' There's nothing Hke being alone," said 
Patrick, '' especially when ye have yerswate-heart 
with yer." 

But this was not an original discovery with 

Patrick. Rather he was not alone in making the 

discovery. It is one of those peculiar discoveries 

of which there are a great many joint-authors. 

The first inhabitant of the original Eden thought 

he heard a voice announcing a similar doctrine. 

His report of it runs somehow like this: "It is 

not good that the man should be alone." There 

io8 



SOLITUDE AND SOCIETY. joq 

was at least one of the sons of Adam, who heard 
the same golden text re-echoing in his heart the 
Sunday night which we passed on Passaconaway. 
And the conviction of its truth was so strong 
within him that it. appeared to be his reasonable 
duty to find a confirmation of the doctrine in 
some other heart, that he thought had begun to 
beat responsive with his own. It did not occur 
to him to look into the works of Lord Bacon for 
that confirmation. Though Bacon once said: 
"Whoever is delighted with solitude, is either a 
wild beast or a god." This Adam Jr. was no 
wild beast, though perhaps it would be slightly 
inaccurate to pronounce him an Apollo. He 
was not enough of a god to be deliglited with 
solitude. And it did occur to him that one of 
the fair daughters of Eve lived in a neighboring 
farm-house. And it so happened that said farm- 
house was not so many miles from our island 
home as to be out of the range of a good field-glass. 
Through the thoughtfulness of a kind friend who 



no UP THE MERRIMAL. 

assisted in fitting us out, we had a very nice 
glass, and could look into the gardens and or- 
chards of some very fine places, and almost into 
the windows of certain houses made attractive 
by gentle fingers and loving hearts. With a very 
little aid of the imagination we could see beauti- 
ful pictures, and hear the fragments of interest- 
ing and important conversations. 

It also happened, that Sunday night, a little 
before dark, as the sun was kissing good-night to 
our island, and the moon, almost full, was brighten- 
ing the western hills, and we were looking through 
the glass at the Uncanoonucks, that we discovered 
this Adam Jr. in his best attire crossing the fields 
toward the particular farm-house where dwelt 
the daughter of Eve from whom he had thought 
to obtain the confirmation of one of his heart's 
cherished beliefs. 

It seems to be a characteristic of the human 
mind, that when we believe a thing very de- 
voutly, we like to find and compare views with 



SOLITUDE AND SOCIETY. m 

Other sympathetic hearts that hold the same 
creed. Adam Jr. had a mind predisposed that 
way. And to his way of thinking there was no 
night as good as Sunday night for such religious 
conversation. It does seem peculiarly well 
adapted to this interchange of views. 

So it has come to be a favorite night with the 
sons and daughters of the Puritans. Many peo- 
ple rather like to have it come round as often 
as once a week. Miss Eva was perhaps on the 
look-out for it. For strange as it may appear, 
just before our modern representative of Adam 
had come within sight of the house, she happened 
to think of a flower in the garden that she need- 
ed to decorate her hair ; and stepping out to 
pick it, she happened also to linger a little under 
a vine where nature had constructed an arbor. 
Nature is at times very indulgent in the con- 
struction of lovers' bowers. 

Our glass was not sufficiently powerful to de* 
tect the blush of surprise that covered her brow 



112 UP THE MERRIMA C. 

and cheek as Adam Jr. entered the gate and 
happened to know where to find her. But it re- 
vealed very distinctly the fact that it was not a 
bad place to find a being of such grace and gen- 
tleness. A natural arbor formed of trees and 
vines, with a flower garden on one side, and an 
orchard of choice fruits on the other, screened a 
little from any curious eyes that might be in- 
clined to look out of the window, open to the 
smile of the setting sun, and the blessing of the 
rising moon, was a spot in itself of sufificient at- 
tractiveness to draw our hero and heroine away 
from any more lonely place, to enjoy a solitude 
there flavored with sweet society. By some sin- 
gular foresight, chairs had been placed in the 
arbor, a little way, a suitable distance apart, just 
so that neither of them could well be lonesome. 
Adam Jr. expressed no regret at finding either 
the maiden or the chairs. Adam Sr. was prob- 
ably not more delighted to find the queen of 
Eden when he awoke from his after-dinner nap, 



SOLI T UDE A ND SO CIE TV. 1 1 3 

than our hero appeared to be to find Miss Eva 
in the arbor that Sunday eve. He may have been 
more surprised. 

Neither was it an occasion of regret to us that 
we discovered their meeting and took note of 
the apparent ease and pleasure with which she 
offered him a chair. 

And now it is far from painful to us to add a 
somewhat abbreviated report of the conversation 
that came to us by that invisible telephone which 
connects all lovers' bowers with the romancer's 
studio. It should be added that the report is 
not only abbreviated in its proportions, but is 
somewhat deficient in other particulars. No re- 
port can represent fully either an oration or con- 
versation. It affords no clew to the intonations 
of voice, which sometimes add a charm difficult 
to represent in print. It docs not give the lan- 
guage of the eyes, which is also helpful to young 
people in understanding one another. This re- 
port leaves out a good deal that was spoken in 



1 14 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

an undertone — or whisper — too subtile to be 
easily transmitted by telephone. 

And when the voices became indistinct, the 
lips spoke a language of their own ; it would 
be as well perhaps to consider that lip-language 
confidential. Lovers sometimes make use of ex- 
pressions not primarily designed for the historian's 
page. And at rare intervals gaps occur in the 
conversation, when silence seems golden. Our 
report will signally fail to convey the full elo- 
quence of those intervals of silence ; the reader 
must refer to his own experience for help 
to read what may be found between the lines. 
We can give only the prosy outline. 

'' Good evening, Miss Eva, how considerate 
in the moon to look inhere so pleasantly on your 
favorite resort." 

''Yes, indeed, Mr. Adam, and equally consid- 
erate in you to look in here about this time. 
Let me have the pleasure of giving you a 
chair.'* 



SOLITUDE AND SOCIETY. 115 

Both take seats, not so far apart as to make the 
place seem chilly. 

'' May I ask, if you have with you the ' Con- 
fession of Faith' that you were to read this even- 
ing?" inquired our hero, with the promptness of 
a man of business. 

'* O yes, you may ask; you like to ask ques- 
tions, I believe." 

*' I do ; why shouldn't I, of one so ready to an- 
swer? With your permission, I will ask if you 
have the paper?" 

"Most certainly; did you ever know me to 
break a promise? You were to read yours first, 
you remember." 

''I've been thinking it over; and concluded 
that we ought to have the same creed. You 
subscribe mine, or I yours. How can two walk 
together except they be agreed ?' 

" O, no, no ; that will never do. Mine ^v^as not 
written for you. It is not sufficiently analytical 
for your philosophical mind. Mine contains but 



Il6 UP THE MERE I MAC. 

one article. You will more satisfactorily express 
your faith in five, ten, or fifteen articles." 

''Fifteen? Why not fifty? Really, if we are 
to live in the same house, and cat at the same 
table, ought we not to have the same number of 
articles? How can we safely fellowship one 
another in the home, unless we have the same 
creed ?" 

" Will it not be really the same, even if not the 
same in form? If I believe in you, and you be- 
lieve in me, is it necessary to particularize?" 

" Well, let's see how they read. They may be 
so nearly alike, we can reduce them to one. May 
I see your paper, please?" 

" After you, Mr. Adam ; you were to read first. 
And we must stick to our agreement." 
Adam Jr's Confession. 

" I. I believe in Miss Eva Lilibest, as the 
woman best qualified to preside over my future 
home. 

" 2. I believe she has reached a sufificient age. 



so LIT UDE A ND SO CIE TY. 1 1 7 

'■' 3. I believe she has attained a sufficient size. 

" 4. I beHeve that she has possessed herself of 
sufficient knowledge— to begin with. 

'' 5. I believe she is sufficiently domestic in her 
tastes and habits. 

" 6. I believe she can make good bread. 

'' 7. I believe she can play the piano, ivclL 

*'8. I believe that her tongue has learned the 
law of kindness and discretion. 

''9. I believe she is tasteful in her attire. 

'* 10. I believe she has a liberal endowment of 
common-sense, enough for the family, and first- 
class talent for making a happy home." 

"Thank you, Mr. Adam, for this clear expres- 
sion of your beliefs. Without doubt you are 
sufficiently sound in the faith. Now listen to 
my heterodoxy. It is all summed up in one 
article. 

" I believe that Mr. Adam Jr. is too provok- 
ingly good to be allowed to live alone ; that he 
is the flower of his family, and that such a 



IlS UP THE MERRIMAC. 

flower ought not to be permitted to blush un- 
seen and waste its sweetness on the desert air." 

Adam Jr. drew his chair a few inches closer to 
Miss Eva's. The telephone did not give dis- 
tinctly the next remark. But the glass indicated 
a drawing together of heads, and a movement 
that looked as though he gave his sweetheart a 
kiss upon the forehead, in token of reverence 
for her superior intellect. 

"They say your brother is going to be married 
about Thanksgiving time?" 

" Perhaps." 

'' I don't see why that wouldn't be the best 
time for you to come over to our house." 

"Why, Adam, the idea!" 

" O the idea is all right. The only question is 
whether, as an abstract proposition, it commends 
itself to your judgment." 

" I thought you were going to let inc set the 
time." 

" O yes you may set it next Thanksgiving, or 



so LIT UDE A ND SO CIE T Y. 



119 



sooner, if you prefer. Perhaps October would be 
better — say your birth-day?" 

" O that's too soon. But don't let's talk about 
that now. Don't you know it's Sunday?" 

"Yes; and I'm glad it is. If you will appoint 
some day in the week suitable for the considera- 
tion of this business I shall be only too happy to 
come over and hear you say next Thanksgiving. 
But I thoui^ht I would run over to-night and 
look over our creeds a little.'' 

" I am glad you came. Do you find me suffi- 
ciently orthodox? We ought not to be married, 
you know, unless we are agreed in doctrine?" 

**\Vell, for substance of doctrine you'll do, per- 
haps ; but your creed lacks definiteness. A work- 
ing creed requires to be more explicit." 

" But if I do the work myself — I suppose I may 
let the creed rest. What work can a creed do, 
any way?" 

*' We are so well agreed in the fundamentals, 
so nearly one at heart, as I understand it, that we 



I20 UP THE MERRIMAC. 

may postpone any further discussion till next 
Sunday night. Then, perhaps, we can reduce the 
two to one ; one creed is enough for a single 
household." 

The next Sunday night we were out of sight 
of Eva's bower. The telephone wires had not 
been laid to the place of our encampment. But 
in all probability their next attempts at creed- 
writing were perfectly satisfactory. They may 
have discovered during the week that hearts 
bound together by genuine love may analyze 
their faith as they please. 

The reader who is curious about the result will 
find in the Manchester Daily Union, published a 
little after Thanksgiving, a notice of their mar- 
riage, which took place at the residence of the 
bride's father, just in time for the happy pair to 
drive to church that morning. 

However it may be with a larger household of 
faith, it is not certain that any vital interests will 
suffer detriment, because they concluded to work 



SOLITUDE AND SOCIETY. 12 1 

together, even though inclined to construct their 
creeds upon different patterns. 

When Columbus was cruising among the Islands 
of the Atlantic, he was told of two, inhabited 
one entirely by men, and the other by women. 

Whether they belonged to some pre-Adamite 
race, and had not heard of Adam Jr.'s golden 
text, or Cowper's poetry; or, had discovered 
their fallacy, and agreed to live separately, Co'- 
umxbus did not ascertain. That was another of 
the discoveries which he failed to make. 

The probable explanation is that they were 
unable to make their doctrinal statements agree 
and so could not dwell together in unity. 

Our island was inhabited only by men, while 
we were on it; yet it is entirely accurate to state 
that our thoughts went sailing down river to a 
certain home we knew, even before our bark was 
set afloat to the music of homeward-bound. Not 
one of us, however, said a word about being 
home-sick. 



DOWN THE MERRIMAC 



CHAPTER XII. 

HOMEWARD BOUND. 

We had discovered the New World, and rested 
in camp to congratulate ourselves, during a 
period of five days. We thought it would be well 
to leave the rest of the river for another trip. 
It is a mistake to undertake too much at once. 
That leaves nothing for the future, but to sit 
down A' jxander-like and boo-hoo for other 
worlds. And it seemed impolitic to imitate all 
the great men at the same time. 

We hadn't time to forget that when the great 

Christopher had finished discovering San Salva- 
122 



HOME WARD BO UND. 



123 



dor and the adjacent islands, he concluded to 
forego the pleasure of finding the main land 
until another time ; and he turned his little boat 
toward the east and set sail, without waiting for 
a letter from the reigning Queen, summoning him 
home. 

We concluded not to wait for such a sum- 
mons, and on the thirteenth of August, loaded 
our vessel and headed her down stream. 

When Christophe-r started on his return trip 
he took with him nine Iniians, thinking, it may 
be, to Christianize them by a sight of the bull- 
fights of his native land. When we sailed from 
Passaconaway Island we could not find nine In- 
dians that wanted to see the bull-fights at the 
oriental end of the Merrimac. And as there 
was no great demand for Indians dowm river, 
it seemed hardly worth while to wait until they 
should apply for passage. 

We have not regretted our course in coming 
away without them. For we could not discover 



124 DOWN THE MERRIMAC. 

but that our Indian Summer was just as pleasant 
as though we had brought with us nine or *' ten 
little Indian boys." Should any of our readers 
be curious to know the particular reasons for our 
neglect, the answer would be that our boat was 
not large enough to carry so many, and there 
were no Indians to bring. With a little assistance 
from their white neighbors, the Pennacooks had 
run out. 

Christopher had a little larger boat ; he had 
found a little larger island, where Indians were 
so plenty that nine woald hardly be missed. He 
had determined to take back with him their 
gold ; and it may have occurred to him that it 
was only fair to take the owners along too. And 
over and above all that, he left in their place 
forty-three of his own men that were hardly 
worth returning to their mother country. 
We considered our crew all worth taking home. 
And finally we did not wish to be too servile 
imitato/s of even the great Christopher. 



HOME WARD BO UND. 1 2 5 

Our boat had not drifted far on its downward 
course before we discovered that it was far easier 
sailing down stream than up. 

It was, perhaps, not the first time that so re- 
markable a fact had been noted. Many of the 
greatest discoveries, like some great poems and 
stories, have several authors. They are like the 
Saxe Holme stories, that have been written by 
so many different women that it is difficult to 
determine who wrote them first. 

Whether all the different authors of Hamlet 
and Macbeth have been found out yet, is known 
only to the critics. 

It was easier going down the rapids, and over 
the falls even, than we could have imagined 
from any experience we had going up. And what 
was still more surprising, the falls were far more 
picturesque when viewed in retrospect, than 
when they afforded the prospect of hard work. 
This remark has no direct bearing on the labor 
question. Work abstractly considered has a 



126 DOWN THE MERE I MAC 

charm of its own. Our question is for the artist- 
Does the world always appear more beautiful to 
him who drifts with the current than to him who 
heroically stems the tide ? 

However this may be, the vigorous pull on the 
oar develops strength, and strength is more to 
be coveted than delight — as manhood is more 
than pleasure. But the one who goes up and 
down river gains both. 

We had our reward. We had gained the 
strength which the current gives to those who 
face it, and were permitted to return with the 
requisite health to enjoy the sweet pictures on 
either hand. 

It was on our return trip that we rediscovered 
the fact that the Merrimac is a very crooked 
river. There was hardly a place where it ran 
long enough in one direction to give us a straight 
look of a mile ahead. 

Here we run aground the problem of the ages, 
how to account for the crookedness of things. 



no ME WARD BO UND, j 2 7 

P'or surely some things appear too crooked even 
for the experts and detectives. They are like hu- 
man nature, twisted in a way for which there 
seems to be no accounting. Attempts have been 
made by the world's sages to furnish a satisfac 
tory solution, but with indifferent success. The 
poet has not withheld his hand. 

"In Adam's fall, 
We sinned all," 

is his lucid and concise explication of the vexed 
problem. It is perhaps safe to remark that neither 
the poetry nor the theology of the celebrated 
author seems to meet the wants of this cultured 
and regenerate age. Other poets have tried their 
hand, and some philosophers. But the latest 
conclusion in the matter seems to be to remit to 
posterity certain parts of the problem, not yet 
quite clear. And generally it would seem that 
problems which have come down to us from 
former ages, unsolved, had better be slipped 
along for the consideration of coming ages. 



128 DO WN THE M ERR IMA C. 

Yet it is well for every new philosopher to put 
in his oar. And while sailing down round some 
of the crooked est places in the river, not having 
much to do as sailors, we turned philosophers, 
and solved the secret of the river's winding 
ways. 

We invented a very ancient tradition that 
when the bed of the river was laid out, the sur- 
vey of its course was made by a drunken Irish- 
man, who reeled about in such a jolly manner be- 
tween the hills that he became everywhere 
known as " Merry Mack." 

As he strolled round from city tc city to get 
his bottle filled, he made a very crooked survey. 
And they named the river after him. That 
accounts for its running near so many cities, 
which it could not have done had Mack been 
sober enough to lay it out in a straight line to 
the Atlantic. 

Sober Irishmen lay out water-courses In straight 
lines. Notable examples are found in certain 



HOME WA RD BO UND. 1 29 

ditches and canals. Whether the Merrimac 
would have been a more useful river, to have 
been laid out in a straight course from its source 
to the sea, is a question for future debating soci- 
eties. Perhaps it would have been ; but that 
would have been a bad arrangement for quite a 
number of the cities. It would have left Lowell 
and Lawrence far to the south. And what a sad 
thing it would have been for Lowell if the Merry 
Mack had not strayed in that direction! The 
tradition does not state whether Mack drank 
crooked whiskey, nor whether he ever reformed. 
But it hints pretty strongly at the probable ex- 
planation of a great many crooked things. 

It is by no means certain that it would sufifici- 
ently account for all the crookednesses of Wall 
Street ; but it would go some ways toward an ex- 
planation. It would not be quite accurate to 
charge all the evil of the world upon crooked 
whiskey; nor would it entirely relieve the dififi- 
culty of the problem. For then some little boy 



I30 



DOWN THE MERRIMAC. 



would askjwho made the crooked whiskey? There 
would then be found a necessity for inventing 
another ancient tradition. 

At the close of the day we found that we had 
rowed and drifted farther by several miles than 
we made in two days going up. We found a 
place for our camp so delightful that we could 
hardly help feeling a twinge of gratitude to the 
merry surveyor who had laid out the river's 
course so near our pine-crowned bluff. The 
climb, it is true, was a little severe. We were 
forcibly reminded that it costs an effort to get 
up in the world. And perhap.'the genius is not 
yet born that can construct an elevator to li t 
imperfect mortals into heaven without an effort 
of their own. Even this wonderful age has not 
produced the mind to evolve a machine so won- 
derful as that. 

*' Nothing is got for nothing." Our effort of 
climbing, however, was abundantly rewarded. 
We gained a fine prospect, delicious air, seclusio-n, 



HOME I VA RD BO UND. 1 3 1 

abundance of material for fire, a fine carpet, 
soft and dry, just the right place for an encamp- 
ment. 

Buckwheat was blooming on the Hudson 
shore, and sending out with every breeze sweet 
invitations to the bees to fill their hives with 
honey. At six o'clock our tent was up, the ham- 
mock swung, and we had an hour for supper, and 
to listen to birds and bees, and tinkling bells 
in the adjacent sheep-pasture. An hour for quiet 
observation and sweet meditation ! Can any hour 
be more delightful than the closing hour of a 
beautiful summer day? 

Swinging in our hammock we enjoyed sweet 
rest, cheered by music and soothed by the pines' 
soft lullaby. So cheered and soothed, there was 
nothing to prevent our drifting off into dream- 
land even more rapidly than the current had 
borne us to our restful haven. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

A PINCH OF SALT. 

Early the next morning we cooked our oat- 
meal porridge, while basking in the warmth of 
a roaring camp-fire, and discussed the difference 
which a little salt will make, when it is left out. 
Our supply was exhausted, and it did not take us 
long to remember that ''Salt is good." Our 
green corn was not so good but that it would 
have been better with a little salt. So much do 
the comforts and pleasures of life depend upon 
what seem to be the minor amenities, the small 
things that concern us ! And our discomforts 
often depend upon very little things. The point 
of a needle, a mosquito's bill, the sting end of a 
bee, are very little things. 

A trifle of the salt of kindness makes all the 
132 



A PINCH OF SALT. 1 3 3 

difference between the agreeable and the abom- 
inable. One kind word, or a pinch of salt with 
a little pudding around it, may save a starving 
man from suicide. Men do starve or commit 
suicide for want of that pinch of salt. 

But it did not seem to be worth our while that 
morning, either to starve or drown ourselves just 
because we happened to be out of salt. It was 
too pleasant a morning, and the birds were sing- 
ing in too merry a strain. It did not occur to us 
that it would be at all expedient to try in that 
way to punish a cold and heartless world for our 
own improvidence. It would not be expected 
of us. Nor could we see how that would at all 
mend matters. We thought, on the contrary, that 
rather than do that, we would go down to Nashua 
and buy some salt. We might have complained 
of the authorities of tlie town, or of the neigh- 
bors for allowing our provisions to run so low. 
We might have gone to the proprietor of the 
farm-house across the river and demanded that 



134 ^0 IVN THE MERKIMA C 

he divide his salt Avith us. Did not the early 
Christians have all things common? We are 
obliged, however, to confess that we did not 
think of this until after we had purchased a sup- 
ply. Then, we had missed our opportunity. It 
was too late ! 

When we had finished our morning meal, we 
raised the question next whether to sail on. 
Wendell was of the opinion that we ought to 
stay over and enjoy our new home another day. 
Why be in haste to leave such attractive quar- 
ters? Parsons urged the thought that each day 
should bear us further on life's voyage. What 
aspiring soul can be satisfied to rest? A new 
home every new day— how much is implied in 
that ! 

Wendell was outvoted, and submitted cheer- 
fully to move on. It seems to be the law of life 
th:it we miOve on, and grow on. Who would 
wish to remain an infant through eternity, the 
soul bound up in a nutshell? A chicken is not 



A PINCH OF SAL T. 1 3 5 

SO foolish as to wish to get back into the tgg. 

"Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul!" 

One about the size of the White House would 
perhaps answer every purpose. What a charm 
in the things that are new ! What castles in 
Spain are more full of romance than the morn- 
ing offers in the promise of a bewitching day? 
And the day did promise to be a glorious one; 
as if the weather-god having pouted and stormed, 
was endeavoring to regain favor by being extra 
good. So great was the change from the pre- 
ceding week, that the weather itself seemed 
new. Yet with all the pleasures of the new and 
the strange, we found that when at night we en- 
camped once more on our old ground, there was 
nothing in the new which reminded us of sw^eeter 
honey than the restful view of familiar places, 
and the winsome smile of well-known faces. 

We found in the course of the afternoon some 
of the finest scenery on the river; some of w^hich 
was overlooked when going up, or seen from 



136 DOWN THE MERRIMA C. 

some less favorable point. Some of the most 
charming of views are like certain human heads 
that need to be seen from the right angle to get 
the right impression of their beauty. 

We met three boatmen going up in a canoe, 
who gave us pleasant greeting, and whose friendly 
interest drew out in their behalf our hearty good 
wishes for a prosperous voyage. How little is 
required to make men, perfect strangers, and our- 
selves also the happier for meeting. 

The oaks and elms that had given us hospi- 
tality on our upward trip, waited to give us 
welcome ; and we pitched our tent, with the 
leave of the owner, on the spot where we had 
spent our first Sabbath, and where we were to 
spend another, whose experiences were altogether 
so delightful as to deserve mention in another 
chapter. It was in Tyngsboro', on the east side 
of the river, at the upper end of Mr. Coburn's 
orchard. Having anchored our boat, and ar- 
ranged our camp, and taken supper, we began to 



A PINCH OF SALT. 1 37 

explore the land of Nod. It is verily a land of 
shadows ; but that night the darkness was so 
dense, that we saw nothing. Our discoveries 
were so thoroughly forgotten that we had nothing 
to report but daybreak. 

Thursday morning, the fifteenth, was specially 
noted for our early rising, and for the first bloody 
tragedy that occurred to us in the whole trip. 
Breakfasted at six, on fried lamb and boiled po- 
tatoes. We betray no confidence in pronouncing 
the cooking excellent ; for we did it ourselves. 
After the breakfast dishes were washed, and the 
knives scoured, at eight o'clock and t^^•enty min- 
utes, the oak that bore up our hammock had its 
roots watered with human gore. Unconscious 
that any harm was about to befall him, Parsons 
was sitting in front of the tent, innocently whit- 
tling an innocent stick. He had never been to 
a whittling school, but had taken up the nrt of 
his own accord, and without special direction:^ as 
to the use of a knife. 



jog DOWN THE AI ERR I MAC. 

Suddenly, without apparent provocation, and 
without thinking specially about it, he thrust the 
shining blade of his knife into the fore-finger of 
his left hand. The gash was entirely too large; 
and the blood spilled was out of all proportion 
to the demands of the occasion. And to all ap- 
pearances it was shed at far too cheap a rate. 
There was enough of it to have done honor to a 
greatly more important event. 

In other respects the experiment seemed un- 
timely. We were all sorry that he had not 
waited till after reaching home. But since the 
trial had been made, and the blood was flowing 
freely, and without any hesitation, it occurred to 
us that it might be as well to interrupt the stream 
in some way as to let the boy bleed to death. 
We knew that a pinch of salt is sometimes help^ 
ful in stanching the flovv' of blood. And we were 
fortunate in having renewed our supply. Par- 
sons himself thought a rag would be of service ; 
and on that account it would have been well to 



A PINCH OF SAL T. I 3c) 

wait till we had reached home. We had forgot- 
ten to bring a rag-bag with us. We were over 
half a mile from any store. But the brave youth 
walked the entire distance and procured a quar- 
ter of a yard of cloth to bind up the disabled 
finger. With the simple reflection that blood 
less innocent had been shed on many a battle- 
field in a less worthy cause, we waited for the 
wound to heal. Time seems to be an important 
element in the curing of any wound, or the heal- 
ing of any disease. The ills of earth may re- 
quire a longtime for their healing, but time, with 
the gracious help of Heaven, is doing his work. 
After dinner the boys went to Tyng's pond, 
and I^ with pencil and note book in hand, at- 
tempted the record of certain real and fanciful 
discoveries, actual and prospective, but so mixed 
that no account but the record itself can do jus- 
tice to it. That the reader may not suffer an 
irretrievable loss, that is given in the succeeding 
chapter. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE NEW EARTH. 

The boys have gone a-fishing. I am the 
watchman, and abide by the stuff. By recreation 
and rest, I have become so far myself that I 
can speak in the first person. With returning 
strength the ego revives. Since there is more 
of me, I may indulge the ego with less impro- 
priety. The man of two hundred avoirdupois 
may say "/" with an emphasis that is not per- 
mitted to a little man, unless he is equally big 
inside. Slim men should use the capital I 
with caution ; but they may use it if they are 
careful about the underscoring. 

While a man is not to think of himself more 
highly than he ought to think, he may neverthe- 
less take the responsibility of being himself, 

140 



THE NE W EARTH. I4I 

and if sure of his health he may speak his mind ; 
he may tell his experiences if they are delightful. 
Let the bilious and dyspeptic with doleful ex- 
periences be silent. 

It is better to be mum than to croak. But 
when it is so easy to speak a pleasant word, why 
should any prefer to be mum ? Let the well and 
strong, the healthy and happy prattle and bab- 
ble, and laugh and sing. Joy is infectious, but 
it is not dangerous. To the new creature is re- 
vealed the new heavens and the new earth. To 
him there is liberty. Let him loose his tongue 
— it will run itselt. 

What a life-giver is rest ! What a health 
giver the open air ! I am beginning to feel that 
it is a luxury just to breathe. Never did a crust 
seem so certainly made of the finest of the 
wheat. 

To sit in my tent and snap apple seeds at a 
fly is almost as enjoyable as was the hunt to the 
mighty Nimrod. But I do not sit in the tent 



1 42 DOWN THE M ERR I MA C. 

very long at a time. The hammock takes pre- 
cedence over the camp-stool. My hammock 
is swung between an elm and an oak, wed- 
ding beauty to strength by this easy yoke. 
Swinging here, I can reconstruct ancient his- 
tory, or dream of a world as real to me as was 
this continent to Columbus when he decided to 
find it. Looking up through the oak leaves that 
bend so gracefully to kiss the elm, I can weave 
my own romances and paint my heroes to suit 
me. 

What do I care how Antony won Cleopatra, 
or what was the character of hero or heroine? 
In my new world the hero shall be the soul of 
honor, wise and true, brave and tender; and the 
heroine chaste as well as beautiful, fair as the 
morning, and inspired with the wisdom of love 
rather than the unwisdom of artifice. She shall 
speak not only fluently in six languages, but 
truthfully in all. She shall be ambitious, not 
only to rule others for their good, but chiefly so 



THE NE W EARTH. 1 43 

to rule herself that she shall never require the 
aid of an asp to terminate her career. 

What do I care if Hannibal did vow eternal 
hostility to Rome, and harbor his malice for a 
lifetime? Must I make my heroes malicious in 
order to make them great? Nay, verily, the age 
is changed. The world is new. The hero of the 
nineteenth century is the great lovcr^ not the 
great hater. His representative, sitting in the 
White House, sends out his messages, " with 
mal'ce toward none, and charity for all." Kindly 
thoughts, beneficent purposes, fill his heart and 
mind, and his strong will is set to tasks of 
blessing. 

The youth that flung himself into the river to 
rescue the drowning boy, shall sit for his portrait, 
and his picture shall be my Hannibal. 

On the shores of this glorious river will I found 
my empire. Are they not mine by right of dis- 
covery? Does any one say they are already oc- 
cupied, and that their inhabitants have a prior 



144 DOWN THE M ERR I MAC. 

right? Did it signify that Columbus found 
America already inhabited ? He discovered it 
all the same. He planted his colonies — and the 
result? Let the historian tell the story. Here 
it suffices me to give the history in advance of 
my own new world. This beautiful valley shall 
be the territory. The Merrimac shall be for it 
the river of life. And here shall dwell a people 
whose sons shall be heroes, brave, honorable men, 
mightier to conquer self than Alexander to con- 
quer a world. Little will it matter five hundred 
years hence who now holds the title-deeds of 
these fruitful fields. Who owned them five hun- 
dred years ago? Who five thousand before 
that ? What was their condition, and what theit 
right to the soil ? They slept with their fathers, 
and the world knoweth them no more. So shall 
the present generations pass, and a new people 
hold their title-deeds. I pitch my tent upon an- 
other's land by his leave ; we strike hands in a 
friendly alliance ; he brings my sons a present of 



THE NEW EAR TH. 1 4 5 

fruit ; I invoke a blessing upon his daughters. 
Together we visit the hill-tops, and stand upon 
his Mount Pisgah, looking northward, south- 
ward, eastward, westward, and heavenward. 
We behold sweet fields on either side of 
the river. I assure him that he has indeed a 
goodly heritage, that he dwells in a delightsome 
land. And I assure myself that my great-grand- 
children's great-grandchildren will hold it by 
reason of my discovery, and in their own right. 

What concerns me most is that they be true 
men, brave and meek, strong and honorable, 
worthy to hold it, able to hold it, and nobly ful- 
fil the purposes of being. 

Is it not said, " The meek shall inherit the 
earth?" There shall be a survival of the 
fittest. And is it unreasonable to hop'j that 
coming generations will learn meekness of that 
lowly one, who is Lord of the whole earth? 
It is no mere fancy, but a reading of the law of 
progress by the eye of faith, which confidently 



1 46 ' ^0 IV N THE MERRIMA C. 

declares that these beautiful residences that are 
so great an improvement upon the Indian's wig- 
wam, shall, like them, give place to more elegant 
homes, with still more delightful surroundings. 
The new palaces shall re-echo with other voices 
and resound with other songs. 

A higher civilization, a more refined culture, 
shall bless these homes, while a finer health and a 
loftier courage will add beauty and dignity to 
life. Beauty shall attend upon use ; simplicity 
and veracity join hands, serving as the guardian 
angels of the home. Patience and moderation 
shall displace the hurry and worry which now 
fret the edges of life, and a serene faith shall 
hold to the promises of the Eternal. 

And in those days the school-house shall be 
the temple of all useful learning ; and the teacher 
an instructor in the science of right living. The 
pastor of the church shall be his colleague 
and chaplain, and the professor of moral science. 
The doctor shall be a salaried of^cer of the town, 



THE NE W EAR TH. 



147 



to lecture upon sanitary laws, and upon the 
means of preserving health. There shall be a 
gymnasium in every town, under the direction 
of a board of health, of which the doctor shall 
be chairman ; and the grounds surrounding shall 
be fitted up as a public park. 

The lawyer, instead of being an experimenter 
in the science of legal quarreling, shall be the ex- 
pounder of political ethics, and lecturer upon 
political economy and morality. He shall 
give a public reading and explanation of such 
new statutes as concern the citizens of the town; 
and for keeping the people informed of their legal 
rights and duties, he shall be rewarded from the 
town treasury. And the people, prudent enough 
to refrain from litigation and disputation in 
matters of right, shall be wise enough to abstain 
from quarreling concerning the administration of 
the Gospel. They shall all belong to one church, 
or to churches bound together by Christian 
fellowship; and their religion shall be not only 



1 48 DO IV N THE MERRIMA C. 

Christian in name, but Christian in spirit and 
purpose. 

The church shall be administered upon prin- 
ciples as broad as the New Testament, which re- 
cognizes God as the Father of all, and all 
believers as brethren. It shall adapt its services 
to the needs of all, so as to hold and edify all the 
sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty. 

There shall be one Lord, one faith, one 
baptism. There shall be no worldly-minded 
pastors, no contrary-minded deacons, no narrow 
minded partisans. But all, inspired with noble 
enthusiasms, with wise and fraternal considera- 
tion, with the generous purposes and beneficent 
spirit of their Master, shall illustrate to the world 
and to one another how Christians can love, forgive 
and help one another. Animated by loyalty to 
Christ rather than devotion to sect, they shall 
join hands in Christian work, and voices in 
Christian worship. 

L"i that day the vocation of the editor shall 



THE NEW EAR TH. 1 49 

be chiefly to publish dehghtful news. He will 
cheerfully be excused from exaggeration, and the 
manufacture of sensational items; as the public 
will have no taste for that style of fiction. He 
may publish receipts for preventing squashes from 
growing too large, and turnips from growing too 
tall. He may foretell the days when the sun will 
favor us with his smile ; he may state when and 
where the lively pickerel will favor us with a 
bite ; he may fill his columns with the record of 
generous and chivalric deeds, of fair and honest 
elections, of pure and profitable entertainments. 
There will be no murders, nor robberies, nor 
elopements to record, but happy marriages in 
high life, for all life will be high ; and peaceful, 
natural deaths, for all deaths will be natural. 

The children, learning early to swim, will 
not get drowned in the Merrimac, nor. any 
tributary waters. Thunder-storms will be so con- 
siderate as to dispense with the lightning that 
kills, or turn it over to some Edison, to be em- 



I 50 DO \VN THE MERRIMA C. 

ployed as a motor. Edge-tools will be endued 
with wisdom to cut only in the right times and 
places. Righteousness will be inscribed upon 
the threshing-machines and planing-mills ; and 
circular saws will be hedged in with forethought. 
Tramps and diphtheria will be forbidden bylaw, 
and consumptions and fevers prohibited by 
fashion. No motives will remain for suicide, 
and none for scandal. Peace, plenty, and pros- 
perity will fill the land ; for the inhabitants will 
be so fascinated with honorable industries, and 
so devoted to minding their own business, that 
there will be no room for hard times. People 
will be so enamored of home, there will be little 
inclination to travel, unless it be by boat on the 
river ; and husbands \\A\\ be so in love with their 
wives, there will be no call for divorce. 

The literature of that Eden? Well, it will 
consist in good part of prophetic romances con- 
cerning a still better time coming, and records of 
discoveries on the morning shore of the Millenium. 



THE NE W EAR TH. 1 5 1 

There were never any such significant discoveries 
made by mortal eye as those we are permitted to 
make, by the eye of faith, in the new heavens 
and the new earth. 

Ah, here come the boys from their fishing, as 
cool as two young philosophers. They have con- 
cluded that they went after huckleberries. In the 
dawn of the Millenium, fishing is considered a 
cruel sport ; and it has seemed the part of wis- 
dom to let the innocent pickerel that feasts on 
the smaller fish, have a little longer lease of life. 
This wisdom came late in the day, perhaps, and 
after an attempt to interview the pickerel ; but 
wisdom had better come late than never come at 
all. Yet a riper wisdom is coming, though the world 
has waited long. It requires no prophetic gift 
to see that the world's best days ai e yet to come ; 
only a little confidence in the truth, only a little 
exercise of hope. A healthful eye and a hopeful 
heart can see all manner of good in store for this 
beautiful valley. Let no well man be sorry that 



152 JDOJVN THE MERE I MAC. 

he was not born in the age of the Csesars, or of 
Cokimbus, or of Passaconaway. The canoe that 
brought Hannah Duston down the Merrimac sailed 
toward a sweeter civiHzation. We may hope- 
fully spread our sails and hasten toward a more 
glorious future. There is no tax on hope, and 
no law against indulging it. The prayer of hope 
and of faith reads : — ''Thy kingdom come. Thy 
will be done in earth, as it is in heaven !" 



CHAPTER XV. 

OUR LAST SUNDAY. 

After an ample breakfast of baked beans and 
brown bread, which is the average New Eng- 
lander's most devotional diet,we discovered that 
we had too much time to get ready for church. 
Sunrise had came too early in the day for Sun- 
day. We could not spend two hours upon our 
toilet, as we had left our Sunday attire at home. 

When there is a large family to get ready it is 
very convenient to have sunrise early in the 
day. 

It takes time to arrange all the fixings. In 
these days of modern culture, it is thought very 
desirable to have an elaborate church toilet. 
There may not be any such connection between 
aesthetics and religion as to make it essential for 

153 



154 DO IV N THE MERRIMA C. 

acceptable worsliip that the worshipper should 
have a thousand dollar jewel on the ring finger. 
But the sermons are usually so fine, so brilliant 
in the way of attractive points, not to say sen- 
sational, that the most devout hearer stands but 
a poor chance of attracting much attention un- 
less dressed right in style. 

As we did not have our ''meeting clothes" 
with us, it did not seem to be our duty to com- 
pete with the more highly-favored residents and 
summer boarders. And it did not occur to us 
early enough in the day to excuse ourselves from 
attending church on the ground of indisposition. 
We were saved at least from one temptation, 
that of going late. Our morning devotions at 
the shrine of fashion w^ere not so prolonged as to 
result in the disturbance of those whose feet were 
drawn early to the house of the Lord. 

It Is better, doubtless, to go to church late, 
when there is sufficient reason for it, than not to 
go at all. All civilized Christians ought to be as 



OUR LAST SUNDAY. I55 

regular as possible in such matters. Church- 
going may be a mere habit with a great many; 
but it is a good habit. If a doctor is detained 
in the morning by a patient, and cannot get in 
until the sermon begins, he is excusable for being 
late. If a milkman's route is a little too long 
for his morning hours, he need not absent him- 
self from the last half of the service because he 
cannot get in in time for the first half. But we 
are far from advising people generally to go late 
to church. It is not recorded that St. Peter ever 
went late ; and if it w^ere that would not make it 
our duty. There are advantages not to be over- 
looked in going early. If among the first, you 
can see whether the others enter suitably dressed, 
without having to consume the time of service 
in such inspection; that is, if the others are in 
suitable time. We went early to church that 
morning, and yet did not have the opportunity 
of reviewing some of the more important suits 
until the bell had ceased tolling. It is possible 



156 nOlVN 7 HE MERRIMAC. 

that a nicely fitting pair of new gloves, a '' stun- 
ning" hat, or a pair of loud boots, will show off 
to better advantage just the last minute before 
the invocation, than at any earlier stage of the 
proceedings. Though some think it will do as 
well immediately after the invocation. The 
tramp of feet in the aisles during the voluntary 
afTords a fine accompaniment to the organ, and 
helps put the organist, as well as the congrega- 
tion, in a devotional spirit. We had been ac- 
quainted with a congregation further down river, 
that deserves commendation for being in time, 
and that, too, where the meeting is held forty-five 
minutes earlier in the morning, so we were pre- 
pared to believe that it is possible to get ready 
for church before eleven o'clock. It was a ereat 
surprise to us, therefore, to learn that the elo- 
quent boots that passed up the aisle, just a little 
late, did not belong to a doctor or a milkman. 

The opening service was in admirable keep- 
ing with the cheerfulness of the day. It had 



OUR LAST SUN DA V. 



57 



been a good morning with the birds. In their 
morning offering it was not difficult to detect 
the flavor of glad hearts. So in the sanctuary 
gladness was expressed in song and prayer. It 
was good to be in such an atmosphere. There 
was an apparent heartiness and life in the 
worship which indicated that by far the greater 
portion had come to church for another pur- 
pose than just to see and be seen. ' The im- 
pression was that of devout Christian worship. 
Even those who came late and those who wore 
loud boots were well-behaved in the place of wor- 
ship, and it is far from our thought to impute 
the sins of the boots to the persons who wore 
them. The sermon was not upon imputation, 
predestination, or reprobation. It set forth a 
Saviour, so human as to be in full sympathy with 
human nature, and so divine as to be able to 
save even sinful human nature. 

The sermon — but it was not in our plan to 
remark upon the sermon. Only the Sermon on 



1^8 DOWN THE M ERR I MA C. 

the Mount is above criticism ; and that has not 
escaped. Had it been pronounced for the first 
time in some of our modern churches, it would 
be tliought to savor too highly of good works, 
and to be lacking in the evangelical element. 

Perhaps there never was a sermon preached 
which was considered just right by everybody. 
But criticising sermons, even the Sermon on the 
Mount, is not necessarily the most profitable 
exercise of one's gift. 

After the service we were invited to dine with 
the gentleman who owned our camping-ground; 
which we took as sufficient proof that he added 
to other virtues, this also, that he was " given to 
hospitality." 

And a sweet hospitality it was, and hearty; 
giving us an opportunity for becoming acquainted 
with a rare and interesting character, a fine 
representative of one of the first families in the 
Merrimac valley — an old gentleman in the prime 
of life, over seventy in years, but less than fifty 



O UR LAST SUN DA Y. I 59 

in spirits; a man with courage enough for a 
soldier, with information enough for an author, 
with voice enough for a general, and with dignity 
enough for a king. We had before been con- 
vinced of his generosity, and had grateful recollec- 
tions of his visit to our camp with a present of 
melons and apples. And that Sunday's visit 
gave us some fresh glimpses of a heart both 
large and warm. Long may his extensive or- 
chards continue to bear the finest varieties of ap- 
ples yet invented ; and his melon-patches fur- 
nish ample supply for two cities. 

The Sabbath-school concert was the meet- 
ing of the day, judging by the attendance, and 
the effort made to interest the congregation. It 
helped not a little toward an answer to the ques- 
tion — how our churches are to hold their young 
people? Give them something to do in making 
the exercises attractive, and they will be inter- 
ested in them. 

The church was full. We saw no boys fishing 



1 6o DOIVN THE MERRIMA C. 

by the discouraging river bank, while on our 
way.. There was something too attractive in- 
side. Why not have a concert, or something as 
interesting and instructive, every Sabbath even- 
ing, and fill up our churches with youth and 
beauty whose delight in the sanctuary shall be 
expressed in songs of praise? 

It is thought to be worth while for the pastor 
to prepare a sermon and a second sermon ; but 
it is not so well worth while to have the second 
sermon as to have some service in which the 
children can have a part. Does it require some 
little trouble and Qffort? Perhaps the minister 
will say that it requires some effort to get up a 
sermon; but that is what he enjoys. The great 
question, however, is as to the comparative value 
of the different services to the congregation. The 
problem for minister and people is how to direct 
their work so as to profit the greatest number. 

If only a small part of the congregation is in- 
terested in the second preaching service, it is a 



OUR LAST SUNDAY. l6l 

hint to devise some new arrangement. Jesus 
Christ is the same yesterday, and to-day, and 
forever; but there may still be an infinite variety 
of methods of presenting his truth, and so of pre- 
senting Him to the world. 

The church that shall arrange its services so 
as to edify and refresh without wearying, the great- 
est number of souls possible for it to reach, is to be 
the church of the future. But we may safely leave 
the future generations to take care of the church of 
the future ; it becomes us rather so to administer 
our trusts that the church of the present shall be 
the church of the people, of all the people, and so 
prove itself the church of the living God. Since 
He is the Father of all, why may not all be led 
to take delight in their Father's house, and through 
its ministrations be fitted for a place in the house 
not made with hands. 

But this is not intended for a preaching ser- 
vice. It is not the chief end of man to hear ser- 
mons; nor always his chief delight. Something 



1 52 DOWN THE MERRIMAC. 

depends on the quality. It was once our privi- 
lege to be acquainted with an old gentleman, 
gone now, we trust, where there is no preaching, 
who wanted to hear sermons all the time ; and 
yet he could take no delight in them unless very 
sound, and very dull. According to his judg- 
ment, a sermon was very sound that had a suffi- 
cient number of heads. He liked the thirteenth- 
lies and sixteenthlies. Hardly any living preacher 
could suit him. Only the remembered homilies 
of some sainted divine could satisfy his critical 
taste. 

But the cases are exceptional of men with in- 
tellects so vast as to require a continual stream of 
such preaching to keep them in good humor. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

MUSIC IN THE AIR. 

The night of the eighteenth, after a most de- 
lightful concert by the birds, we lay in our tent 
and dreamed of the most bewitching music. At 
seventeen minutes before twelve we were awak- 
ened very softly by the song of a bird that had 
been taking singing lessons of a frog. A new 
kind of music came stealing into our tent from 
the tree-tops above us. Your imagination will 
be the best guide in determining the quality of 
the tone. It did not sound like a robin. It did 
not resemble the barking of a dog. It was as 
much like a katy-did as the dulcet notes of the 
mosquito are like the voice of the cricket. It 

was not very loud ; and yet a little louder than 
163 



1 64 DO IV N THE MERRIMA C. 

we should have chosen, had we been previously 
consulted. It was not by any means too cheer- 
ful. The music was written in the minor key; 
and gave the impression that the author was "n 
a melancholy mood. That, however, was not the 
cliief objection. It was untimely — too un- 
timely to gain a patient hearing. It was too 
late for that night, and quite too early for the 
next morning. The other birds had all gone to 
roost, and were sweetly dreaming of a golden 
morrow; resting their voices for the morning 
concert. The katy-dids and katy didn'ts were 
cheerfully waiting a more suitable occasion for 
their little dispute, and were quietly gathering 
material for the next debate. Our musician was 
very inconsiderate. Really there was no call 
for his kind of music at that time of night. It 
was not given to meet any pressing want. \A'e 
could not think of anything which we had done 
to deserve such a serenade. We reviewed all 
the sins that we had committed or omitted, and 



M USI C IN THE A IR. \ 6 5 

could think of none that merited such attention. 
Our conscience was all ready to go to sleep. The 
flesh was willing, and the spirit would cheerfully 
have acquiesced but for the disturbance. 

It began to grow difficult to preserve our 
equanimity; patience was ceasing to be a virtue ; 
for the strain was continuous, and quite too mon- 
otonous. It was provokingly monotonous. It 
was as humdrum and common-place as the 
stump speeches of a confirmed office-seeker, 
croaking ''hard times, hard times, hard times; 
vote for me, vote for me, vote for me !" 

How could an honest man sleep under such 
provocation ? Yet the boys did sleep. Could 
it be accounted any proof of dishonesty on their 
part? Should we rouse them, and hold an in- 
dignation meeting in the dead of the night ? 

We endured it precisely one hour and a quarter, 
as nearly as you could measure it with a guess- 
ing rod ; then rising deliberately we felt for the 
gun. Remembering, however, that it would not 



I ^6 DO WN THE MERE IMA C. 

go off in the daytime without a good deal of 
coaxing, we concluded that a hatchet would be 
the surest weapon for dispatching that tree-toad. 
Then, if called to account for it, we could confess 
the deed in those immortal words — '' I did it 
with my little hatchet." But in order to butcher 
a tree-toad successfully, it is necessary first to 
find him. We stepped softly yet resolutely out 
of the tent, and looked up wistfully into the 
tree. Our croaking songster did not seem to be 
embarrassed in the least. He sang away as 
though he enjoyed it. And yet, cowardly mu- 
sician that he was, he would not come out and 
show his colors for love nor money. The night 
was serene. The moon looked down with provok- 
ing coolness, as though delighted with the seren- 
ity of the night. We wondered if the old 
man, her sole inhabitant, was in sympathy 
with our monotonous musician. He seemed so 
indifferent, so composed, as though sustained by 
the inward consciousness of approval from the 



MUSIC IN THE AIR, 1 67 

man in the moon. He was thoroughly careless. 
We had noted before that professional croakers 
are among the most careless of beings. They 
cannot condescend to pay any attention to what 
you say to them. Our tree-toad could not. 
Apparently, he did not hear our invitation to 
come down. The call may not have been couched 
in sufficiently flattering terms. We threatened, 
but he heeded not. When we asked him just to 
show himself, he sang on as monotonously as 
ever. We looked for him ; we looked again, we 
looked in vain, though we stretched our neck up- 
ward as far as possible to get a glimpse of him. 
Had the neck been six feet longer we might have 
seen him ; but we didn't see him. We only 
heard him; and we kept on hearing him. When 
we asked him to stop for a rest, he seemed to 
feel like singing all the time. The case grew 
desperate, and we concluded not to butcher him, 
until we could find him. In sheer desperation 
we gave a whistle shrill enough to wake the seven 



1 68 DOWN THE MERRIAIAC, 

sleepers, if they had been in hearing distance ; 
and the tree-top was as silent as the grave. 
Felicitating ourselves upon the success of that 
whistle, we breathed a prayer of gratitude, 
piously recalled the commandment, " Thou shalt 
not kill," and went to bed. 

Just as we were fairly covered in, our humdrum 
nightingale gave utterance to his conviction that 
we live in a free country, where the right of free 
song is as sacred as that of free speech. Not 
caring to debate so absurd a proposition at that 
unseasonable hour, but questioning seriously 
whether the right of free speech includes the 
privilege of croaking, we drifted off again into 
dreamland, where the tree-frog finds no wel- 
come, and the croaker's voice is dumb. 

Awoke next morning just too late to see one 
of the most delightful sunrises our eyes never 
beheld, but not too late to hear the concluding 
strains of a concert that would have done credit 
to the birds of the original Paradise. 



MUSIC IN THE AIR. l6j 

While preparing and discussing the morning 
meal, we reflected upon the wisdom of that fore- 
ordination, that determined in the morning of 
creation that the tree-frog should exercise his 
gift at what we had thought an unseasonable 
hour. 

It was for an example to the entire genus of 
croakers, who ought, in imitation of that night- 
bird, to tune up and let off their monotonous 
song after all respectable people, God's grateful 
ones, are abed, and sleeping the sleep of the 
cheerful and contented. 

The doleful strain of the croaker is certainly 
more appropriate to the dark hours of midnight 
than to those bright hours Avhich are gladdened 
by the sun. And if it were becoming in us to 
. offer a word of counsel to the croaking tribe, it 
would run somewhat in this wise : '' Go to the 
tree-frog, thou croaker, consider his hour, and 
carp away." 

But do not think yourself anything great in 



1/3 



DOWN THE MERE I MAC. 



the way of genius, because of any power to make 
the night hideous with your dolorous and monoto- 
nous note. 

It does not require anything brilliant in the 
way of intellect, nor remarkable in the way of 
voice, nor very much culture, to make a first-class 
tree-toad. All that is essential is the disposi- 
tion, and that can employ the most meagre 
talent. 

Our last day in camp at Tyngsboro' is not 
memorable for anything in the way of startling 
incident. Parsons went a-fishing once more; he 
did not catch a thirty-pound salmon, that would 
have worried himself and the fisherman almost 
into a fever before consenting to be taken ashore. 
Anything so exciting and thrilling as that would 
have marred the sweet quietude of the day ex- 
ceedingly. Besides, the salmon of the Merrimac 
are too regardful of the legal enactments of the 
commonwealth to lend any countenance to their 
violation, by tempting susceptible fishermen to 



M USIC IN THE AIR. 1 7 1 

such unmanly sport. For can anything be thought 
more unmanly than for a self-respecting boy, or 
man even, to drop a line to a fish so much 
smaller than himself, and then chase him up and 
down river two or three hours for a favorable an- 
swer? To sit on the river bank, holding a long 
slender rod in one hand, and a nice little book 
which describes the bloody adventures of some 
mighty Nimrod, in the other hand, is altogether 
a more dignified proceeding; it saves the wear 
and tear of nerves, and is not so likely to wound 
the sensitive feelings of the salmon. 

Father Coburn, under whose hospitable roof we 
had dined the day before, brought another melon 
and some green corn to our tent, and invited us 
to a stroll through his woodlot and pasture, 
where beautiful oaks, walnuts, and pines afforded 
refreshing shade. He led the way to the top- 
most peak of a hill, from which he showed us 
some pictures of the Merrimac — Nature's own — • 
of the new iron bridge, of the old Tyng place, 



1^2 DO WN THE MERKIMA C. 

and other points of interest; while in conversa- 
tion more delightful than the scenery, beautiful as 
that was, he gave us some charming glimpses of 
the mind of a philosopher and the heart of a 
friend. Long shall we remember gratefully that 
walk and talk with the old gentleman, whose de- 
votion to Pomona has been equal to that of Ver- 
tumnus of old, and whose generous reward is 
abundant evidence of her favor. When he gave 
us our first taste of William's Favorite, a rich- 
flavored, high-colored summer apple, we could 
not help thinking that every gardener ought to 
have at least one tree, from which to treat his 
friends, after the Red Astrachan is gone, and 
before the Gravenstein is ready for eating. And 
we thought, moreover, that no one could take 
the pains which he has taken to raise choice 
fruit, still setting out trees in old age, without 
gaining a title to be considered a real bene- 
factor. 

And as we walked the length of his orchards 



M USIC IN THE AIR. 1 7 3 

and melon fields we wondered how our dejected 
night-bird could croak as if for dear life, "hard- 
times," in the very border of that loaded orchard? 

When the question was referred to Wendell, 
the philosopher of our party, just then not quite 
so well up in etymology as in gymnastics, he re- 
plied, "That is all plain enough. To be com- 
pelled to overlook a field of unripe melons is 
enough to make any bird melancholic." 

So we concluded that the croaker must be the 
sour fruit of an unripe age ; and we slept in the 
hope that as the ages gain in ripeness, his tribe 
will become obsolete. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

HOME AGAIN. 

The Muse has tripped along the Merrimac with 
very nimble feet. And no wonder, if inspired 
for the journey by the genial song of our Merri- 
mac Valley singer! It is enough to inspire any 
muse, or make any river beautiful to the eye of 
the light-hearted maid. 

But never did the river seem more perfectly 
enchanting, than when, light of heart as a bird, 
our merry crew threw out sail, bade good-bye to 
our new friends, and sped away to greet the old. 
The elements conspired for our advantage; and 
nature's police did not interfere. 

The current was strong and joyous. The wind 
was blessed with a helpful disposition. Both the 
river and breeze seemed glad that we were going 

174 



HOME AGAIN. I-^ 

the same way with them. It was socially exhila- 
rating to go on together. The breeze was so 
overjoyed as almost to overdo it. It came near 
being so frolicsome as to be perilous. But our 
courage rose with the danger, and we keenly en- 
joyed our chase to keep up with the wind. Per- 
haps nothing is so sure to inspire one with cour- 
age as to give him a helping hand. Quickly were 
we borne by the encouraging elements, out of 
sight from our starting-place, down the roaring 
rapids, and past the Wickesauke Island, so swiftly 
that we had no time to invent any thrilling 
legends of hair-breadth escapes from our prede- 
cessors of the tomahawk period, who counted 
scalps by their cheerful camp-fires. 

Gayly we bounded o'er the billows, which be- 
gan to roll higher as the wind grew more daring, 
till it seemed that we almost flew into port at 
North Chelmsford, where we found the first fami- 
liar face we had seen for three weeks. It was 
the face of an old school-mate, whose eye, hand. 



1 76 DO WN THE M ERR IMA C. 

and heart, were as full of welcome as his brain- 
basket of wit and wisdom. 

The hour we spent in chatting over his trip to 
Palestine, and his prospective marriage, was all too 
short. Wishing him as much joy as it is proper 
for mortals to experience this side of heaven, 
we shoved our ship from shore, and sailed for the 
city of spindles and gubernatorial candidates. 

A friend and disciple of the General, waiting 
with his team for a job, agreed to carry our ship 
across the city for a dollar; but before fulfilling 
the agreement it occurred to him to make an ex- 
tra charge for the cargo. He did not say whether 
he had learned that trick in swate Ireland, or 
after coming to Lowell ; he did not cite us to 
chapter and verse which encourages such a pro- 
ceeding. We asked him if Thomas Talbot was 
not a man of his word ? He mildly assented, and 
volunteered in addition the declaration that Mr. 
Talbot was "a very nice gentleman," but he was 
going to vote for '^ the Gineral." We did not un- 



HOME AGAIN. lyy 

dertake to argue the political question, but ex- 
pended our logic in the endeavor to dissuade him 
from his purpose to inflate the charges. We could 
not ao-ree with his candidate in all his little eccen- 
tricities, nor did we like to have the principle of 
inflation practised upon us, until after the elec- 
tion. We think the matter was made clear to 
his apprehension. He repented of his sinful device. 
He was less than an hour in transferring us to 
the river below the city; and he bade us good- 
bye as respectfully as if his little scheme had 
been a success. We forgave him. We did not 
even lay it up against the "working-man's candi- 
date." We did not believe that he was acting 
under the advice of a lawyer, when proposing to 
collect double charges. Lawyers are probably 
no more to blame for the faults of their admirers, 
than are ministers for the defects of their hearers. 
Some men are original enough in their sinning 
to do a good deal of it without the help of either 
lawyers or ministers. 



1^8 DO WN THE MERRIMA C. 

We ran the rapids below the city without any 
great strain upon the oars, and stopped in a 
birch grove on a small island near the north 
side, to enjoy a small thunder-shower and take 
our mid-day meal. We have reversed the order 
though in our statement, for the shower kindly 
consented to wait until we had eaten our dinner. 
It was well; for so we could the better appre- 
ciate the shower, and pay it more attention. A 
thunder-shower always loses some of its attrac- 
tiveness, when it undertakes to keep a hungry 
man from his dinner. 

A delightful sail of an hour along precipitous 
banks brought us to the pines in Tewksbury, 
where on our upward trip we had spent the 
second night. We found a party from Lawrence 
fishing from their boats just opposite the harbor. 
They were hauling in the fish at the rate of about 
one every four hours. That would be a fourth 
of a fish to the hour. 

The reader will be able to judge for himself 



HOME AGAIN. I^q 

about how high the excitement ran, and may 
possibly withstand the temptation to hasten 
thither to join in the fascinating sport. 

The valiant knight of the hook and line, who 
at our previous visit had found a tempting array 
of fish in a convenient nook of the brook above, 
hastened up to see if they had changed their 
mind any with regard to coming ashore. He as- 
certained that they had at least changed their 
position. They were not to be found. Either 
they had acted upon the suggestion of some 
more expert fisherman, or in a fit of bashfulness 
betaken themselves to a more secluded nook. 
The disappointment was not great, and did not 
suggest the lamentation of the poet: 

" 'Twas ever thus from cliildhood's hour, 
I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; 
I never loved a fish or flower, 

But 'twas the first to glide away." 

The Merrimac is very discreet. It does not 
undertake, by any such ignoble attractions as 
would be afforded by a multitude of the finny 



l8o DOWN THE M ERR IMA C. 

tribe, to divert the attention of the voyager from 
its charms as a river that has taken express pains 
to run along startlingly near to some of the most 
beautiful scenery out-of-doors. It is only far- 
ther down river that it ventures to offer the rest- 
ful delight of fine landscapes, and the excitement 
of hauling in the monsters of the deep. Where 
it winds gracefully between the sweet banks 
of Haverhill and Bradford, Groveland, West 
Newbury and Merrimac, where the nimble stur- 
geon leap up for a sun-bath or an air-bath every 
few minutes, the excitement of fishing may be 
added to the other enchantments of nature. But 
even sturgeon fishing has its limitations in the 
way of attractiveness. 

The next morning we built our last camp-fire, 
cooked our last breakfast of oat-m.eal and green 
corn, packed our dory for the last time, and rowed 
and sailed for Lawrence. There, while waiting 
for the attendant to lock us through into the 
canal, two young gentlemen from Lowell, in a 



HOME AGAIN. igl 

shell, overtook us; and we had their company 
through the canal, and down river to a spot below 
Mitchell's falls, where we stopped for dinner. 
The run down the rapids, by the big flutter 
wheel, and over the falls, was very exhilarating 
and satisfactory. 

As we turned round the great bend below the 
falls, and came near the lower rapids, where the 
river seemed sown with huge boulders, a great 
eagle, without waiting to obtain leave of absence, 
lifted himself from one of the rocks, and spurning 
the earth with his wings, soared heavenward ; 
and after exploring the region of space in the 
vicinity of the sun, started in all probability for 
Eagle Island. 

Judging from that specimen we concluded that 
the eagle is rather an unsocial bird. It is said 
that— 

" Birds of a feather 
Flock together." 

We thought the eagle could not be one of that 
kind. He flew in a very solitary manner, and did 



1 8 2 DOWN THE MERRIMA C. 

not appear to flock together to any great extent, 
so long as our eye could follow him. 

For social entertainments it is probable that 
the turkey excels the eagle. We have seen tur- 
keys at social entertainments, which neither that 
nor any other eagle would be able to surpass. 
For purposes of oratory the eagle may be util- 
ized ; but for a regular diet the turkey is consid- 
ered the better bird. 

Whether it was in deference to the eagle as a 
high-flier that our fathers voted him the bird of 
our country, instead of the turkey, as was pro- 
posed ; or did it with a view to keep the more 
toothsome bird out of politics to be reserved for 
society, history does not inform us. And, by the 
way, that is one of the most serious objections 
to history, that it fails to tell us just the things 
which we are the most curious to know. It is to 
be presumed that the fathers acted wisely in the 
matter, even though the present generation is 
not fully informed as to the wherefore. Possibly 



HOME AGAIN. 1 83 

the turkey would cut quite as elegant a figure on 
our Bland dollars; but it might be difficult to 
get a supply of eagles for our Thanksgiving din- 
ners. 

As a matter of history it may here be recorded 
that upon our return home that night, we found 
no roast turkey nor fatted calf on the table 
awaiting our arrival. It was too late in the day 
for dinner; and too early in the season for 
Thanksgiving. It was two days earlier in the 
week than we were expected. 

Instead of stopping to look for one or two more 
camping-places, as we had thought to do, we 
concluded to keep on our way and see if we could 
reach home that night, the more especially as the 
sky gave indications of a storm. A part of the 
way we had to row against the tide, and without 
the help of the wind. But neither wind nor tide 
could prevent our eager oarsmen, now skilled and 
toughened for work, from accomplishing their 
purpose. 



1 84 DOWN THE M ERR I MA C. 

At six o'clock we looked down the gap on the 
West Newbury side, where the river used to run 
before it turned to the left to run under Rock's 
Bridge. If it had not taken that turn travellers 
crossing the briage would find themselves on the 
same side of the river they started from. And 
that would be perplexing. 

At half-past seven we came in sight of Moul- 
toh's " Castellated Chateau," which adorns the 
heights opposite the Ferry Village ; and before 
eight we entered the mouth of the Powow, which 
we found had lost none of its kinks during our 
absence. At nine we were unloading at Board- 
man's Wharf. The row up the Powow was per- 
formed under the cover of a darkness so dense as 
not only to hide all the attractions and beauties 
of the surrounding scenery, but even to conceal 
the shores so effectually that we had to run 
aground several times to find out that the river 
had any banks. 

Our run on the banks, however, was not a very 



HOME AGAIN. 1 85 

serious affair for those institutions, or for our- 
selves. Wc came at length out of nature's dark- 
ness into the light of home, into the light of 
happy faces; and our gratitude was great, both 
that we had been able to leave a home so bright 
with the light of love, for a trip up river so full 
of blessing ; and that we were able to return so 
strong to enjoy again the brightness and bliss, 
the rest and the labor, of such a home ! 



WORD PICTUKES. Tbouglits and Descriptions from Popu- 
lar Autlxors. Boston : D. L.otlirop & Co. Illustrated, Price 
«1.'75.--Gilt edges, S2.00. 

This volume IS inscribed by the author to "the Memory of ]My Beloved 
Mother, Margaret Guthrie Strohm, and of the happy days when we read to- 
gether." A note of acknowledgment to the authors and the publishers rep- 
resented, answers as a preface to this compilation. One hundred authors are 
quoted, among whom many are well-known to all, as Grace Aguilar, Louica 
M. Alcott, Charlotte Bronte, Bulwer, Dickens, Disraeli, Amanda M. Doug- 
lass, Edward Everett Hale, Hawthorne, Victor Hugo, Jean Ingelow, Eliza- 
beth Stuart Phelps, Charles Reade, Mrs. Stowe, and Bayard Taylor. There 
is no lack of deep meanings in this collection, and of course all the popular 
authors could not be represented in a small volume. Forty-two pages of the 
three hundred and fifteen are devoted to various subjects under the title 
" Tlioughts." The remaining pages are classed *" Descriptions and Scenes." 

Soms selections seem to be chosen to illustrate certain styles of picturesque 
narrative and are allotted several pages, while others are terse enough to be 
contained in a few lines. Dickens is awarded the first place, and the open- 
ing thoughts are concerning " children." " I love these little people ; and it 
is not a slight thing when they who are so fresh from God love us." 

Here is something for the educators of women, by George MacDonald : 
" Men like women to reflect them ; but the woman who can only reflect a 
man and is nothing in herself will never be of much service to hiin." 

This is a picture, sure enough, from Mrs. Whitney: "She was like a 
breeze that set everything fluttering, and left the whole house freshened after 
she had passed on." 

Here some " Words of Truth," by Miss Alcott, bear profound philosophy. 
"It is an excellent plan to have some place where we can go to be quiet 
when things vex or grieve us. There are a good many hard times in this life 
of ours, but we can always bear them if we ask help in the right way." 

One more selection from the short speeches must suffice: "No life is all 
sunshine, nor was it so intended. And yet I think God doesn't mean us to 
fear the future. We are to take up daily events with hopeful hrarts and shape 
them into a higher form than crude fragments." 

Such a book is invaluable in its influence on j'oung people who are just 
forming their ideas of life. Many of the longer sketches are convenient to 
take up when one feels like reading, but cannot endure a continuous effort 
of the mind. A sick person, on recovering enough to be entertained with 
short readings, would be greatly delighted by judicious use of this attractive 
kind of medicine fur t'.ie mind — The Liberal Christian. 



A Moment- s Chat with our Friends. 



We take pleasure iu offeiiiig our patrons a finer and more 
varied assortment of Juveniles and Iloliday Books for 1876-77 
than in any year lieretofore. In presenting our catalogue, 
we would add that, in regard to Children's Books, there is 
one happy word to say: the easiest, surest way to prevent 
the formation of a desire for evil literature has been found 
to place in tlie little hands book upon book known to be pure 
and strong in influence, pure and vivid in impression, pure 
and fascinating in interest. Still, the parents who set out 
to do this are largely dependent upon what their Publish- 
ers and Booksellers set before tliem. In our latest selection 

of books, we have borne the welfare of the young people 
constantly in mind, from the young men and women, down 
to the little folks in the Primary schools. There are, for 
tliese " dots," Miiose tastes the parents can reasonably hope 
to shape, some exquisite little " Libraries," in tasteful boxes. 
There is no way to render a little one so completely happy 
as to give it a box of books to be all its own. "With these 
arranged upon a swing book-shelf — and no child's room 
should be considered furnished without a book-shelf — the 
child feels that it has a library; and by no other method is 
it possible to teach a child the use, the proper care, and tlie 
value, of books. In the matter of price tliese tiny " Li- 
braries suit all purses. The Laege Piii:!^t Libkary, 6 vols., 
Illustrated, Cloth Bound, Chromo sides, $2.40. Ciiaeming 
Stoey Library, exquisitely bound, G vols., $3.00. Boys' 
Holiday Library, Girls' Holiday Library, each 6 
vols., $3.00 each. The True Stories Library, 12 vols., 
$2.40. Tills library comprises twelve tiny volumes, dainty 
iu gray cloth, embossed with black, lighted up with gay 
chromos. The Pansy Picture Library, 4 vols., $3.00, is 
exquisite in paper, printing, illustrations and binding. For 
the very small folks in the nursery there are four merry 
books, with big print, full-page pictures, and gay, cloth- 
lined covers, Madame Mobcap, Merry Mice, Tony and 
"^Yinket's Valentine. With the same care the Holi- 
day Gift-books have been scIocIch]. Gifl-books hold a place 
fur years upon the shelf and table; a:ul ! ho Wide Awake 



A MomenVs Chat with our Friends. 



Pleasure Book, Pansy's Pictuhe Book, Pictures fok 
OUR Darlings, Two Fortune Seekers, Word Pictures, 
each deserve a j)ennaneiit niche, being sweet and sound from 
the first page to the last. These are the work of oui- fore- 
most authors. Bayard Taylor, ^Ilss Alcott, Mrs. Whitney, 
Rossiter Johnson, Ella Farman, Mrs. Louise Chandler Moid- 
ton, Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, Mrs. B. H. Stoddard, Sophie 

May, etc. We also believe that we offer, in our List 

for Boys, volumes which may safely be read without first 
passing under parental scrutiny and excision, but which at 
the same time shall satisfy a boy's longing for adventure 
and his admiration for the stirring and the heroic, and shall 
leave him resolute instead of restless, ready for action and 

patient toil, instead of filling his brain with idle dreams. 

Our list for Girls is eqully wholesome and entertaining. 
We also offer for examination the Wide Awake Maga- 
zine, edited by £Zia Farmcm, D. LoTHROP & Co., Boston, 
Publishers. This magazine is furnished at the low price of 
$2.00 per annum, post-paid. It is exquisitely illustrated by 
Sol Eytincje, Waud, Merrill, Jessie Curtis, IIlss Ilallock, 
Miss Northam, Miss Humphrey, Mrs. Finley. Miss Farman 
is supported by a brilliant array of contributors, Mrs. B. II. 
Stoddard, 3Irs. Celia Thaxter, Jl/rs. S. M. B. Piatt, Mrs. 
Moulton, Mrs. Emily Iluntington Miller, Bossiter Johnson, 
Charles E. Hard, Sophie May, Marjaret Eytlnje, Nora 
Perry, etc. The attractions for 1877 include a serial by 
Sophie May, Quinnebasset Girls, Good-for-nothing 
Polly, by Ella Farman, and Child Marian Abroad, by 
Wm. M. T. Bounds, of the A". Y. Indepmdent, the latter be- 
ing records of a little girl's visits to the Pope, Empress Eu- 
genie, Princess Marie Valerie, Madame McMahon, etc., 

illustrated with porti'aits. V^e uhall show this magazine 

to our patrons with pride and satisfaction, and receive and 
forward subscriptions. We are also able to furnish a cat- 
alogue of Messrs. Lothrop & Co.'s choice publications, in- 
cluding 500 vols., upon application. We can cordially com- 
mend Messrs. Lothrop & Co.'s publications, for their whole- 
someness of tone, their power of entertainment, and their 
superior graces of style. 



Hf/LXSS J'JJXjXj^. J^. EJ^STDVU-A-IT is one of the most popular 
of our modern writers. 

YOUNG RICK, ^^r Julia A. Eastman. Large 

i6mo. Twelve illustrations by Sol Eytinge . $i 50 

A bright, fascinating story of a little boy who was both a bless- 
ing and a bother. — Boston Journal. 

The most delightful book on the list for the children of the 
family, being full of adventures and gay home scenes and merry 
play-times. "Paty" would have done credit to Dickens in his 
palmiest days. The strange glows and shadows of her character 
are put in lovingly and llngeringly, with the pencil of a master. 
Miss Margaret's character of light is admirably drawn, while Aunt 
Lesbia, Deacon Harkawaj-, Tom Dorrance, and the master and 
mistress of Graythorpe poor-house are genuine " charcoal 
sketches." 

STRIKING FOR THE RIGHT. By Julia 

A. Eastman. Large i6mo. Illustrated . i 75 

While this story holds the reader breathless with expectancy 
and excitement, its civilizing influence in the family is hardly to 
be estimated. In all quarters it has met with the warmest praise. 

THE ROMNEYS OF RIDGEMONT. By 

jfulia A. Eastman. i6mo. Illustrated . i 50 
BEULAH ROMNEY. By yulia A. Eastman. 

16 mo. Illustrated . . . . . i 50 

Two stories wondrously alive, flashing with fun, sparkling with 
tears, throbbing with emotion. The next best thing to attending 
Mrs. Hale's big boarding-school is to read Beulah's experience 
there. 

SHORT-COMINGS AND LONG-GOINGS. 

V>y Julia A. Eastman. 16 mo. Illustrated, i 25 

A remarkabls book, crowded vvlth remarkable characters. It 
is a picture gallery (jf human nature. 

KITTY KENT'S TROUBLES. By Julia 

A. Eastman. 16 mo. Illustrated . . i 50 

" A delicious April-day style of book, sunshiny with smiles on 
one page while the next is misty with tender tears. Almost every 
type of American school-girl is here represented— the vain Helen 
Dart, the beauty, Amy- Searle, the ambitious, high bred, conserv- 
ative Anna Matson ; but next to Kitty herself sunny little Paul- 
ine Sedgewick will prove the general favorite. It is a story fully 
calculated to win both girls and boys toward noble, royal ways of 
doing little as well as great things. All teachers should feel an 
interest in placing it in the hands of their pupils." 



" HVnXSS iF'J^IS/DVE.A.Isr has the very desirable knack of imparting 
valuable ideas under the guise of a pleasing story."— T/z^ New Centiiry. 

MRS. KURD'S NIECE. By EllaFarmait. 111. $i 50 

A thrilling story for the girls, especially for those who think 
they have a " mission," to whom we commend sturdy English 
Hannah, with her small means, and her grand success. Saidee 
Hurd is one of the sweetest girls ever embalmed in story, and 
Lois Gladstone one of the noblest. 

THE COOKING CLUB OF TU-WHIT 
HOLLOW. By EHa Farman. 16 mo. 
Eight full-page illustrations . . . .125 

Worth reading by all who delight in domestic romance. — Fall 
River Daily Neivs. 

The practical instructions in housewifery, which are abundant, 
are set in the midst of a bright, wholesome story, and the little 
housewives who figure in it are good specimens of very human, 
but at the same time very lovable, little American girls. It 
ought to be the most successful little girls' book of the season. — 
The Advance. 

A LITTLE WOMAN. "By Ella Farman. i6m. i 00 

The daintiest of all juvenile books. From its merry pages, win- 
some Kinnie Crosby has stretched out her warm little hand to 
help thousands of young girls. 

A WHITE HAND. By Ella Farman. 12m. 111. i 50 

A genuine painting of American society. Millicent and Jack 
are drawn by a bold, firm hand. No one can lay this story down 
until the last leaf is turned. 



WIDE AWAKE. 

AN ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINE 

For the Young Folks. 

$2.00 i=Eis, j^isTisrxjiv!:. i^osT-A^CB-E :pi2.e:pj^ix). 
Edited by ELLA FARMAN. 

Piiblislied by D. ILOTHKOP & CO., Boston, Mass. 



It always contains a feast of fat things for the little folks, and folks who are no 
longer little findjthere lost childhood in its pages. We are not saying too much 
when we say that its versatile editor — Ella Farman, is more fully at home 
in the child's wonder-land than any other living American writer. She is 
"Ccxoxow^xVy en rapport wiih her readers, gives them now a sugar plum of poesy, 
now a dainty jelly-cake of imagination, and cunningly intermixes all the solid 
bread of thought that the child's mind can digest and assiniiiatti. — York True 
Democrat. 



'^^T'he $1000 Prize Series 

Pronounced by the Exajnt'm'ng- Committee, Rrr), Drs. 

Lincoln, Rankin and Day, superior to 

any similar series.. 



Striking for the Right, - 


- ^i 


75 


Silent Tom, ----- 


I 


75 


Evening Rest, - - . - 


I 


50 


The Old Stone House, 


- I 


50 


Into the Light, - - - - 


I 


50 


Walter McDonald, - - - 


I 


50 


Story of the Blount Family, - 


I 


50 


Margaret Worthin^ton, - 


I 


50 


The Wadsworth Boys, 


I 


50 


Grace Avery's Influence, - 


I 


50 


Glimpses Through, - - - 


I 


5(7 


Ralph's Possession, - - . 


I 


50 


Luck of Alden Farm, 


I 


50 


Chronicles of Sunset Mountain, 


I 


50 


The Marble Preacher, 


I 


50 


Golden Lines, -. - - - 


I 


50 



Sold by Booksellers generally, and sent by Mail, postpaid, 
on receipt of price. 



BOSTON: 
D, LOTHROP & CO., PUBLISHERS. 




9 c 



^^e 






^1 



^1 



J3t) 















3i>>r» 



> » > 



J3 



II 



■i?r 




jS7> :3^ :j^.j^^s^ » :j^ J&^ 



^^^^ 










^v 




?:i 






^^^=^-A 


§ 


((^g 


1 






''■■^-:--::=^' 













I, ^)D5> 

) J)T>X> 



33 X>- I 



■:>ij> 



^3»^>3? 



153? 





> > 




>'^ ^ 


\ y 


g^^ 








